The strength of a warrior
by McLance
Summary: When Harlie discovers she has a serious health issue, she struggles with her anger, and finds herself rebelling against family rules and expectations, and risks losing sight of her goals and dreams.
1. Chapter 1

It was when we were driving near to the Sugar Creek Bridge, about five miles from our house, that

we saw the old, beat-up looking Chevy pickup parked right in the center of the bridge.

Evan, Guthrie and I had been to the feed store, and we were taking our time going back home.

It was Guthrie who noticed the truck first, and he kind of leaned forward so as to get a better look.

"Hey," he said, to Evan and I. "Look at that. Just parked right in the middle of the bridge like that."

"Maybe fishing?" Evan asked.

"Maybe. They can't block the road like that, though," Guthrie said.

I was sitting between Evan and Guthrie, and I craned my neck for a better look, too.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"I've never seen that truck before. Have you, Guthrie?" Evan asked.

"Naw. I don't think so."

Evan slowed down as we came up closer on the truck. There was a man, standing beside the

side of the bridge, and he was holding something in his hands.

"What's he doing?" I asked.

"Looks like he's getting ready to toss somethin' over," Evan said.

We could see the man look our way as we approached. And then, quickly, as if in a urgent hurry,

the man threw what looked like a feed sack over the edge of the bridge, sending it down into the

muddy water of Sugar Creek.

We were close enough that I saw the sack shaking and moving, and I sat up straight so suddenly that I

spilled my can of Coke all over my jeans.

"It moved! There's something alive in there!"

The man nearly ran to the driver's side of the truck, jumped in, and drove off quickly, tossing

gravel as he went.

"Stop, Evan!" I hollered, and as Evan pulled the truck to the side of the road, I was shoving

at Guthrie to get out, and we all three ran to the middle of the bridge and looked over.

"You see it?" Guthrie asked us.

"There it is!" I hollered, pointing at the sack, which had caught on a branch a ways up the creek. As

we stood there, it shook loose, and began to float slowly downstream.

I shed my jacket, throwing it to the ground, and I had one sneaker off to jump in when Evan grabbed the

back of my shirt in his fist. "Oh, no, you don't!"

"There's something in that sack, Ev! Let me go!"

"I said, no, Harlie!"

"I'll get it," Guthrie said, and pulled off his boots, and climbed up on the edge of the concrete bridge wall.

"Damn it, Guthrie!" Evan protested, albeit too late, as Guthrie dove headfirst into the water.

We lost sight of both Guthrie and the sack, and we moved quickly to the other side of the bridge, and

I heard Evan's sharp breath of relief when Guthrie's head popped to the top of the water.

"You alright?" Evan called down to him.

"Yeah! I've got it!" Guthrie yelled, holding the sack up to show us.

Evan and I went to the edge of the bridge and scrambled down the bank, to meet Guthrie,

as he swam over. He handed the burlap sack to Evan, who in turn handed it to me, so he could

offer Guthrie a helping hand out of the water.

"Damn, that water's cold!" Guthrie said.

There was a whimpering sound coming from the sack, and I was already busy trying to untie the string at the top, but it was knotted.

"I can't get it," I said, and Evan took out his pocketknife. "Move your hand out of the way," he told me.

After he had sliced thru it, he threw the string to the ground, and the top of the sack gaped open.

I opened it more, and looked in. "Puppies!" I said, and began to reach in and pull them out.

There were five altogether, four looking as if they were from the same litter, and the fifth one a little

older.

"How can anybody be so mean?" I said.

"Some people are heartless, alright," Guthrie agreed.

"This one is shivering," I said, holding the smallest puppy closer to my chest.

"He's not the only one," Evan said, gesturing towards Guthrie, who was noticeably

shivering.

"I'm alright," Guthrie said.

"Well, let's get you home," Evan said, and we all made our way up the bank to the truck,

carrying the puppies.

In the truck Evan turned up the heater to the highest level.

"For the little cold puppies, and for the little cold Guthrie," Evan said, with a grin.

"Bets on who's goin' to flip more. Hannah, when she sees me like this, or Brian and Adam

when they see all these pups," Guthrie said.

"They look like they're part Border Collie," Evan said. "It shouldn't be too hard to find homes for them."

"Border Collie?" I asked. "Aren't they used sometimes as cattle dogs?"

Evan gave me a sidelong look, as I rubbed my cheek against one of the puppies.

"Don't get any ideas, shortcake."

"What ideas?"

"You're thinking you can convince Adam or Brian to keep these pups. And there's no way

that's going to fly. At least not all of them."

"I know." I sighed. "I was just wishing."

When we got home, Evan backed the truck up to the barn and he got out and went to put the

tailgate down so he could start unloading the feed. It took Guthrie and I a few seconds longer to

get out, because we were carrying the wriggling puppies.

Guthrie set his two puppies in the back of the truck, and started helping Evan unload the feed.

I set down one of mine with the others, and looked towards the pasture, as the Jeep came

into sight, Crane driving and Adam riding shotgun.

"Hang on, here it comes," Guthrie muttered.

Adam and Crane pulled up, and parked, and got out, both of them stretching their

long legs.

"What do we have here?" Crane asked, a slight smile hovering at the edge of his mouth.

"We rescued them," I said.

"Why are you all wet?" Adam asked Guthrie.

"I went for a little swim," Guthrie said jokingly.

"Guthrie." Adam didn't sound amused.

"This guy threw them in Sugar Creek. I jumped in to get 'em."

"It was a white truck," I said, talking in a rush, "and this guy was parked in the middle of the bridge,

and he threw this sack in the creek. Then when he saw that we were watching him, he drove

off really fast."

"Slow down, peanut," Crane said.

"You know the guy?" Adam asked us, and I shook my head.

"Nope," Guthrie said.

"Never saw him before," Evan said, and lifted another sack of feed over his shoulder.

Crane picked up one of the puppies from the back of the truck.

"Poor little guys," he said.

Adam reached out to pet the puppy Crane was holding.

"Aren't they cute?" I asked him, and Adam gave me a knowing look.

"Yes. Very cute," he said dryly.

"Maybe Doc G knows some people looking for a pup," Crane suggested.

"That's a good idea," Adam agreed.

Adam reached out to touch Guthrie's sodden shirt. "It's not August anymore," he said.

"I'll bet that water was cold, huh?"

"It sure was," Guthrie said.

"Better get inside and get into some dry clothes," Adam told him.

When Guthrie had gone towards the house, Crane put the puppy back with its sisters and brothers,

and started helping Evan unload the feed.

"I guess you'd better get these little ones settled in the barn, and get them something to eat," Adam

said.

"Okay." I picked up two more of the puppies. "Do you think they can eat Gus's dog food?"

"Maybe if you soften it up for them a little. Put some milk on it."

"Can I take a couple of them inside first to show Hannah?"

"Yeah. But they're not sleeping in the house tonight."

"I know. The barn."

"The barn."

7

Supper was almost over when I told Hannah I was going back out to check on the puppies.

"You haven't eaten," she protested.

"Just not very hungry," I told her.

"You've hardly been eating at all lately."

"I had a big lunch," I said lightly.

"Harlie."

"I did. Evan bought Guthrie and I hamburgers when we went to town. Didn't you, Ev?"

Evan nodded his head, his mouth full of meatloaf.

"Well, you need to eat some more," Hannah insisted.

"I'll get a snack later," I said, standing up and pushing my chair in under the table.

"Harlie-" Hannah began, only to be interrupted by Crane.

"Sit down and finish your supper, Harlie," he said, from across the table.

"Crane," I protested.

Crane gave me a look that he doesn't often use. On me, anyway.

So I sat back down. I made an effort to finish my meat and carrots, but I left my potatoes. As everybody

started getting up, I still sat there, pushing the potatoes around. As Crane passed by, I looked up at him, and

he nodded slightly, and I got up to set my plate on the counter.

After that, I went out to the barn, sitting down in one of the stalls, and cuddling with the puppies.

I looked up to see Guthrie headed towards me, and he leaned his arms on the top of the stall railing.

"How they doin'?" he asked.

"Good. Except for this one." I held up the smallest puppy. "He doesn't want to eat."

"Did you soften up the food?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Maybe he'd eat some eggs."

"That's a good idea."

The scuffing of bootsteps made us both look up. "How's the dog daycare?" Crane asked.

"The little one won't eat," I said.

"I'll get him some eggs," Guthrie offered, and when he'd gone, Crane took his place, leaning his arms on

the top stall board.

"Why are you arguing with Hannah?" Crane asked, without preamble.

I looked up, surprised. "I wasn't-"

"Yeah. You were."

"I just wasn't hungry, Crane. That's all. I wasn't meaning to argue."

"And why is that?"

I looked at him, confused. "Why is what?"

"Why aren't you hungry?"

"Like I said, Evan bought me a hamburger-"

"That was lunch. Not supper. A lot of times, lately, you haven't been hungry. Are you feeling alright?"

"I feel alright."

"You're tired a lot lately, too."

"I'm okay, Crane."

Crane didn't look convinced. But all he said was, "Alright."

Guthrie came back then with a small bowl of eggs. I stood up with the smallest pup and we moved

to the next stall away from the other puppies, and put him down near the bowl. The puppy took a tentative

sniff of the bowl, and then laid down.

I knelt down next to him, picking him up, and dipping my finger in the egg mixture, and then putting

my finger in his tiny mouth. His little pink tongue came out, licking. So I did it a few more times. After that,

the puppy seemed to lose interest.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked, looking up at Guthrie and Crane in frustration.

"He had a shock to his system, being tossed in that cold water like he was. And he's the runt, so

he's just going to have to fight a little harder," Crane said.

I put the pup back with his siblings, and pulled the old blankets I'd found around them all. With full stomachs,

they all curled up together to sleep.

We all walked to the house together. I was glad the next day was Sunday so I could spend some more time

trying to get the little one to eat on his own.

"Hot chocolate?" Crane asked Guthrie and I, as we went up the front porch steps.

"Yeah. And some of those doughnuts Hannah made this morning," Guthrie said.

"Those are gone, I think," Crane said, and Guthrie groaned.

"Let me guess. Evan strikes again."

For the first time, I noticed that Crane was dressed up. He was wearing a new shirt, and clean jeans.

"Are you going out?" I asked him.

"Yep."

"With Lila?" I asked.

Lila is the assistant librarian in Murphys, and Crane has been dating her off and on for a few months.

"Yeah."

"What are you going to do? Go dancing?"

"Maybe." Crane raised an eyebrow at me. "Any more questions, Miss Nosy?"

I giggled. "I can probably think of a few more, if you want."

"No, thanks. That's okay."

Guthrie and I went to the kitchen with Crane, and while we were sitting there drinking hot chocolate and eating

graham crackers, we could hear the phone ringing, and then Clare calling for Crane.

"Crane? It's for you!"

Crane stood up, pushing in his chair. "Finish those crackers," he told me.

When he'd gone out of the room, I sighed. "Honestly! Sometimes Crane is more of a mother hen

than Hannah is!"

"You know how he worries," Guthrie said, taking out another cracker from the box.

"Finish this for me, okay?" I said, shoving my uneaten crackers at Guthrie. "And don't tell Crane I didn't eat them!"

7

Breakfast was oatmeal and toast, which I managed to finish, mostly because Hannah and Crane were

both watching me. Then, it was time to get ready for church services.

I went to Adam and Hannah's open bedroom door, where Adam was tying his tie looking at his reflection

in the mirror, and Hannah was sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to put her good black flats on.

"I'll help you," I said, going in, and dropping to my knees, to help her put her shoes on.

"Thank you, sweetie," Hannah said gratefully. "It gets harder and harder to put shoes on with this

belly of mine."

"You're welcome," I said. "There you go." I stood up.

Adam turned and surveyed my jeans and Mickey Mouse sweatshirt doubtfully. "New church attire?" he asked.

"No," I said, with a smile.

"Better hustle up and get dressed," Adam said.

"I was actually wondering if I could stay home this morning," I said.

"And do what?"

"English homework. I have a ton of it."

"That can be done when we get home," he said.

"I have some other stuff to do this afternoon."

"Well, rearrange your time schedule, and go get dressed for church," Adam said.

I sighed, and went to put a dress on.

7

Church seemed extra long that morning. Lori wasn't there, so I sat with the family in our regular pew.

It seemed like Pastor Curry went on and on. It was warm in the sanctuary and I felt myself getting sleepy.

I closed my eyes and it seemed like immediately I felt an elbow jab me in the ribs.

I jerked up, and looked at Evan, who had jabbed me.

"Wake up," he mouthed at me.

I looked to the other side of me, and saw Brian's mouth crinkled up at the corners, obviously trying not

to smile.

I was so embarrassed, that I felt my face flaming. After the service was over, I got out as quickly as I could, and

went to get into Guthrie's truck. Evan came strolling over, and opened the driver's door, leaning in.

"Not riding home with me?" he asked with a grin.

"No."

"Come on, Har. I promise not to tease you about it. At least not more than three or four times."

"Go away, Evan."

Evan laughed as he walked away.

Guthrie and I didn't talk much on the way home. It was one of those nice Indian summer days, weather-wise, and

we rolled our windows down.

"Wanna go fishin'?" he asked me.

"Sure. If I get my homework done."

I picked Guthrie to ride home with because I knew he wouldn't tease me about almost falling asleep.

And he didn't. He just said, "Don't worry about it, Har."

"It's so embarrassing."

When we got home, and everybody was going inside, the smell of pot roast and potatoes from Hannah's crock

pot filled the air.

"About thirty minutes before we eat lunch," Hannah announced to everybody.

Without saying anything, I went upstairs. I was suddenly, very, very tired. I didn't know why, but I was.

I started doing some English, but I laid back and closed my eyes.

Somebody was shaking me awake, and I opened my eyes.

"Lunchtime," Guthrie said.

"I don't want any. I want to sleep."

I heard Guthrie say something, but I had already turned over and closed my eyes again.

When I woke up again, it was, according to my alarm clock, almost two o'clock. That meant

I'd slept over two hours. Good grief. I hadn't even checked on the pups since this morning!

I got up, picking up my English papers, crumpled since I'd been laying on them.

I went downstairs, intent on slipping outside to the barn. Brian was napping on one of the couches, and

Evan was watching a John Wayne western on t.v. Adam and Hannah were on the other couch. Adam was reading

the Sunday newspaper, and Hannah was stretched out, with her feet in his lap.

"You're awake," Hannah said. "Did you have a nice nap?"

I had the sudden feeling that it sounded like Hannah was talking to a five year old. Then I felt

ashamed of myself. She was just being her usual sweet self. I didn't know why I felt so irritable.

"Yeah."

"Your plate's in the refrigerator. Heat it up in the microwave," she said.

"Okay. I want to check on the puppies real quick first."

I saw Adam and Hannah exchange a serious look. "Go on and get your plate first," Adam said.

I would have argued but I didn't want another lecture on my eating, or lack of. I went to the kitchen,

and warmed up my plate. I poured a glass of milk and took it and my plate back to the living room, sitting

down beside Evan while I ate.

"Which movie is this?" I asked Evan. "El Dorado?"

"No," Evan said impatiently. "Rio Bravo."

"I get the two of them mixed up," I said, and Evan rolled his eyes at me.

When I'd finished my lunch, I got up to take my plate back to the kitchen.

"There's some brownies," Hannah told me.

"No, thanks. Maybe later."

I went out the back door, and to the barn. The puppies were all playing, and rolling around together. Except for

the small one. He was still lethargic, just laying and watching the others.

Evan came into the barn, and went to get his bridle.

"Evan! Come in here a minute!" I called to him.

Evan turned, and came back. "Hey. I didn't see you hiding in there. How're they doing?"

"Okay, except for the little guy."

Evan came into the stall, and crouched down. "Maybe he just needs more time."

"He's weaker than he was yesterday."

Evan picked up the weak puppy and started looking him over.

"Ev, do you have any money?" I asked abruptly.

Evan looked at me quizzically. "Yeah. A little. Why?"

"I want to borrow some. I'll find a way to pay you back."

"Well, how much?"

I nodded towards the puppy in Evan's hands.

"Enough to take him to the vet."

Evan looked like he was thinking about something, and I got irritated and said impatiently, "So will you loan it to me, or not?"

I didn't realize how curt I sounded until Evan put the puppy down, and gave me a look.

"Why are you so snarly, Har? What's your problem?"

"I didn't mean to sound snarly. I'm sorry."

"I can take him to the vet for you tomorrow," Evan offered.

"I was thinking maybe we could drive over to Doc G's today. He's usually around his house on Sunday afternoon."

"Oh, you were thinking that, huh?"

"Yeah."

I saw a small grin begin at the corner of Evan's mouth. So I smiled back.

7


	2. Guthrie's appetite knows no bounds

By the time we'd called Doc G at home, and gotten around ready to leave, it was nearly four o'clock.

Adam and Hannah were sitting on the front porch as Guthrie, Evan and I came down the front steps.

"Try not to be too long, alright?" Hannah said. "We'll eat at six."

"We'll be back," Evan said.

"Yeah. What's for supper?" Guthrie asked, with a mouthful of brownie.

"Pork chops and mashed potatoes," Hannah said.

Guthrie nodded with enthusiasm.

"Don't forget to ask Doc while you're there about homes for the pups," Adam reminded us.

"Yep," Guthrie said.

When I didn't answer, Adam said, "Harlie. You hear what I said?"

"Yes. I heard."

I went to get the puppy from the barn, and as we were all getting ready to climb into Evan's truck, Adam called from

the porch, "Harlie! Come here a minute!"

I sighed, handing the puppy off to Guthrie, and traipsed back over to the bottom of the porch steps.

"Huh?" I asked.

"You said you had a lot of English homework, didn't you?"

"Yeah. I do."

"Did you get any of it done yet?"

"Not much."

"Maybe you should let the boys take the puppy to Doc's, and get started on your homework."

I felt disappointment so keenly, and it must have showed in my face, because Hannah spoke up before I could.

"Maybe Harlie could get started on it as soon as she gets back. Right, sweetie?"

I looked at Hannah gratefully. "Yes. As soon as I get back."

We both looked at Adam and he said, "Alright. Get going."

"Thanks," I said, and ran to the truck.

7

Doc G was sitting on his front porch, too, drinking a Coors beer.

He was glad to see us, and after talking for a few minutes, he told us to come inside, and he did an examination of the puppy.

"He's a good looking pup. Part Border Collie."

"That's what I thought, too," Evan said.

Guthrie started telling Doc G the story of how we'd acquired the five puppies, and Doc shook his head.

"Some folks ought to be horsewhipped," he said.

When Guthrie and Evan described the truck and the man, Doc G said, "Doesn't sound like anybody I know, either. And I know

most everybody around here."

"Maybe he's new in town," I suggested.

While Doc G had his stethoscope to the puppies belly, I said, "Why do you think he won't eat? Is it because he's just little?"

Doc didn't answer immediately, he probed and poked on the puppy's stomach, and the puppy yelped weakly.

Finally, Doc said that the puppy was really too young and weak to be away from his mother, and that he should have some milk supplement from the feed store that's special for puppies.

"I've got a little here I'll let you have until you can get some," he said. "And you might see that you feed him separate from the

others, and offer him feeding five or six times throughout the day."

I was wondering how I was going to be able to do that, being in school all day. I looked sideways at Evan.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said, interpreting my look. "I'm elected. I might as well get one of those baby sling things and carry Jughead around

with me all day long, wherever I go."

"Don't call him Jughead," I said. "I'm going to think of a really great name for him."

"Now, Harlie," Evan said, turning serious. "You're gettin' all attached."

"I can't help it," I said.

"You can too help it. You're just workin' yourself up to get all upset when you have to give him up."

"I'm not going to give him up," I said stubbornly.

Doc G had watched the exchange between Evan and I with an amused glint in his eyes.

"How about some homemade banana cake and lemonade?" Doc asked us.

"Sounds good," Guthrie said, and I shook my head in disbelief.

"Good grief, Guthrie," I told him. "You act like you haven't eaten for hours."

When we were sitting on the front porch all together, I picked the top step to sit on, holding the puppy close to me.

"You might put him under a heat lamp once in awhile, too," Doc said.

"Do we have one?" I asked Guthrie and Evan.

"Yeah. Around somewhere," Evan said.

When Doc G offered me a plate with banana cake on it, I shook my head.

"No, thank you," I said. "Just some water is fine." I couldn't believe how thirsty I'd been lately. It seemed like

I just couldn't get enough to drink.

"You look like you're likely to blow away in a strong wind, Harlie Mac," Doc said.

Ever since I was a little girl, that's what Doc G has called me. Harlie Mac. Mac for McFadden. I know that's what some people

around Murphys called my daddy as a nickname. Mac. I've always liked it when Doc calls me that.

"I have a long way to go before I blow away," I said lightly, grinning at Doc G.

When we got around to head for home, Doc went to get the puppy milk supplement for us to take home.

"Enough for a couple of days there," he said.

When I saw the price on the top of the sack, I tried to remember how much money I had put away in the top drawer of my dresser.

We were in Evan's truck, ready to leave, when I realized that none of us had told Doc G to look for homes for the puppies.

I smiled to myself. After all, the way I figured it, Adam couldn't get mad at me, if Evan or Guthrie had neither one remembered to ask.

That's right about when Evan said, thru the open window to Doc, "Can you keep your ears open for anybody lookin' for a pup?"

"Surely will. Think I might know of somebody that will take at least one of them," Doc said.

I gave Evan a hard jab to his ribs with my left elbow.

"Traitor!" I hissed into his ear.

Evan put his palm in my face and gave my head a light push.

"Take care now," Doc called. "Tell the family hello."

"We will," Evan said.

When we drove near to the Dari Kurl, Guthrie said longingly, "I could sure go for a chocolate shake."

Honestly ,the way Guthrie can pack the food away! I sometimes think he should have one of those medical studies done on his stomach. It's just got to be some kind of medical

anomaly.

Evan's not much better, because he pulled into the Dari Kurl parking lot and said agreeably, "Strawberry shake sounds good to me."

While we were waiting for their shakes to come, I started pestering Evan to let me drive the rest of the way home.

Evan made a pretense of objecting, but I knew he didn't really mean it. He's always been the one of all my brothers, well, and Brian, too, that

have let me drive since I was thirteen.

He came around to Guthrie's side, and said, "Move over, little brother."

I slid into the driver's seat, and Betsy Vail brought out the shakes. We passed a few more minutes of chit chat with her, mostly

about Daniel, and when he might be home for a visit.

"Tell him to give me a call, okay?" she said.

I told her okay, and when I was pulling out onto the main road, Evan shook his head.

"Man, Daniel doesn't even have to work at it to get the women."

Evan was right, girls really go for Daniel, but I also knew Evan didn't have any trouble finding girls to date. Apparently, Guthrie was in agreement,

because he said, "What are you complaining about? That girl you took out last weekend from Angels Camp was a babe."

Guthrie was holding the puppy, and he took the lid off his shake, and let the puppy lick the ice cream off of it. The boys were laughing about that,

and we were all just talking, and suddenly, I felt sort of dizzy, and there were weird spots in front of my eyes.

I instinctively pumped the brake, and Guthrie said, "What's wrong?"

"Harlie, get over," Evan said. And a second later, he said, "Harlie! You're too far over the center!"

I pulled over and brought the truck to a sudden halt, jerking all of us a little bit. I still had my foot on the brake, and Guthrie

reached over and moved the gearshift from drive to park.

I opened the door, and slid out, moving away from the truck a little, and sitting down in the grass at the side of the road.

In seconds they were both kneeling beside me, one on each side.

"What's wrong?" Guthrie asked, sounding alarmed.

"I was a little dizzy for a minute," I said.

"Here," Evan said calmly, "just relax a minute. Guthrie, go get the thermos of water. And move the truck off the road a little more."

Guthrie sprinted to the truck, moved it further onto the side of the road, and brought the blue thermos that Evan always carries with him, and sank to his knees again.

Evan poured a cup of water, and held up to my mouth. I took a couple of drinks, and then pushed it away. "That's enough," I said.

"Are you feeling better?" Guthrie asked, and when I looked at him, the freckles on his nose were standing out like they do when

he's sick, or scared about something.

I took another deep breath of air. I was already starting to feel better.

I patted Guthrie's knee. "I'm okay, Guth."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I just felt dizzy. I'm fine, now."

Evan reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a granola bar. He ripped the end and handed it to me.

"Eat some of this," he said.

"Ev," I began in protest, "I don't need-"

"Just humor me, okay? Take a few bites, at least."

I sighed, and chewed my way thru half of the granola bar, with both of them staring at me like I was a bug under a microscope.

"A person doesn't just get dizzy like that, for no reason," Guthrie said. "You almost passed out."

"I did not."

"Yeah, you did," Guthrie insisted. "You went real pale looking and then looked like you were goin' to pass out."

"Thank you, Doctor McFadden," I said sarcastically.

I looked towards the truck, and then at Evan.

"Sorry I didn't get off the road far enough."

"No big deal," Evan said. "You okay to head on, now?"

I nodded, and got to my feet. My legs felt a little rubbery, but I was determined to disguise that fact.

I climbed up and scooted into the middle between them on the seat of the truck.

Nobody said anything the rest of the way home. My mind was already furiously working on how I could keep Evan from

taking this little incident any further. I had to convince him it was no big thing or I'd have the entire family all over me like fleas

on a dog.

When our driveway came into view, I said, cautiously, "I guess I'm really tired, or something. Maybe I'll go to bed early tonight."

Evan didn't say anything, but Guthrie said, "You took a long nap this afternoon."

"Well," I said lightly, "I guess it wasn't enough."

There was silence in the cab of the truck.

"That must be what it was," I said, "or maybe I didn't eat enough lunch. I feel fine since I ate that granola bar, Ev."

"That's good," was all Evan said in return.

We were starting up our long driveway now.

"Listen, guys, please don't say anything about what happened. I'm fine-"

"You weren't fine, Harlie," Evan said shortly.

"Well, no, but I am NOW."

"Harlie, you were over the center line of the road," Evan said.

"I was? Well, you guys are always saying how females are such bad drivers. There's your proof," I said, looking from Evan to Guthrie,

and then back to Evan, and trying to coax a grin from them.

"It's not funny," Evan said. "I think we need to talk to Hannah and Adam, or Clare. I think you need to go to the doctor or

something."

"No, I don't! It's my decision, and I don't want either one of you to say anything!"

"It's not your decision, Harlie," Evan said, and parked the truck, shutting off the ignition.

"It is!" I said, feeling like I was near tears.

"No."

"Evan, please! They'll start hovering over me, and it will make me crazy!"

Evan started to open his truck door, and I caught at his arm. "Evan?"

"I'm not going to promise that I won't say anything, Harlie."

"If you say something, I'm going to be so mad at you!" I threatened, as a renegade tear ran down one of my cheeks.

Evan reached up to wipe the tear off my face with his thumb.

"I know," he said.

7


	3. The Inevitable

I smacked Evan's hand away from my cheek, as he wiped off my tear.

I shoved at him, and when he got out, I got out quickly, and stalked off to the barn with the puppy.

He followed me a few minutes later, carrying the sack of puppy milk supplement.

"You need to use warm water to mix this with," he said, setting the sack down beside the puppies' stall.

I put the puppy back with his siblings and didn't answer.

There was someone hollering from the front porch for us to come in to supper.

Evan waited, and when I didn't say anything or move, he sighed heavily, and turned to go. As soon as he had, I followed,

keeping my distance from him as we walked to the house.

When we went into the kitchen, everybody was milling around, washing up, or setting food on the table.

"What's the verdict from Doc?" Adam asked us. He was looking at all three of us, but I was silent, and Evan and Guthrie

filled him in on the care the puppy would need.

As soon as supper was over, I went to get all my English homework, and took it, and some warm water out to the barn, to sit with the puppy. I mixed his food, and then

closed the stall door so the other puppies couldn't come in. The puppy ate about half of what I'd put in his bowl, sneezed a few times, and then

laid down with his head on my foot, while I sat cross-legged in the stall.

I wrote my essay, and was trying to finish my reading, when Crane came into the barn, and came to lean over the top of the stall,

looking down at me.

"Hey, you," he said.

"Hi."

I watched him for signs that Evan had spilled the whole story to them all, but I couldn't really tell anything by the way Crane was acting.

"Ayawisgi," Crane said.

"What?"

"It's the Cherokee word for warrior. I would say that puppy has the strength of a warrior."

"Oh." I tried saying the word. "Ayawisgi. Did I say it right?"

"Pretty close," Crane said.

I thought about it. It was a pretty word. I liked the idea of my puppy being a warrior.

"It's getting chilly out here," Crane said. "Better gather your stuff up and come inside."

In the living room, everybody was sitting and talking, eating popcorn. I suddenly, vehemently, did not want to be a part

of a family evening. I didn't know why, exactly. I just didn't.

I was just about to slip upstairs, when Clare glanced up from the photo album she was looking at.

"Come sit with me," she said. "I want to look at these with you."

I went closer to her. "I thought I'd go up to my room," I said quietly, trying not to draw attention to myself.

"Oh, just for a little while? Come on. I've hardly seen you lately." She reached up to tug me down beside her.

We looked at the photo album for awhile. It was one that my mom had done years before, because it was in the album, and all

organized. After my parents died, all the pictures that Adam or Brian or Crane were able to take were just thrown into boxes.

While we were sitting there, I kept a watch on Evan covertly. He was working on making a set of nylon braided reins. He wasn't saying anything to

anyone, and he looked remote and thoughtful.

Once, when I looked his way, he was watching me, like he was trying to figure something out. I knew he was struggling with what

decision to make. For a minute, I felt sort of bad for him, but only for a minute. I still thought letting anybody else know about what had

happened was my decision. I gave him a dark look and turned my attention back to the photo album.

When I finally had an opening to escape upstairs, I took it. I said goodnight to everybody, and Clare gave me a side hug.

I was on my feet, heading towards the stairs, when Evan spoke up.

"Wait a minute, Har."

When I stopped, I gave him a silencing glare.

"I want you to tell everybody about what happened today," Evan said quietly.

Part of me didn't believe he was doing it. And like this! In front of everyone, all at once!

When I just stood there, everybody turned their attention to me.

"What happened today?" Adam asked me.

"Oh, I was driving, and Evan was teasing me about females being bad drivers. Right, Evan?" I said flippantly.

"No, Harlie," Evan said.

"Well, what?" Adam asked.

"Tell them," Evan said.

I looked at Guthrie for guidance, and he gave me a sorrowful look, and a very slight shrug of his shoulders.

I stood there silently, stubbornly, and finally Evan put his reins down and stood up, putting his hands in the pockets

of his jeans.

"Alright," he said, sounding determined. "I'll tell them."

"Tell us what?" Hannah asked, looking worried.

"Today while Harlie was driving home, she got dizzy, and we had to stop the truck."

"What?!" Adam said, sounding alarmed, and Hannah stood up, coming over to stand beside me.

"What happened, sweetie?" she asked.

"It was just for a minute. Evan's making a big thing out of it," I protested.

"It was more than a minute," Evan said. "She was weaving on the road."

Now Brian was up, looking like he was going to explode. "What the hell?" he said, to nobody in particular.

"I had her drink some water, and eat something," Evan was saying.

"And then I was fine. End of the story," I said.

"Not quite end of the story," Adam said. "Come over here and sit down, Harlie."

"I don't see why we have to make a big thing out of it," I said.

"It sounds like a pretty big thing," Clare said.

"It sounds like that because Evan's making it sound that way! When what he needs to do is shut up!"

"Harlie!" Hannah said, squeezing my arm a little.

"There's no need for you talking that way when Evan's just concerned for you," Crane spoke up.

"I don't care! I knew this would happen if he said something! I was probably just hungry or something."

"Harlie, sit down," Adam said, and he was giving me one of his dad-type looks. I pulled my arm from Hannah's hand,

and sat down in the nearest spot, which happened to be next to Clare again.

"Evan's right to be concerned. It sounds like you need to see the doctor," Adam said.

"No. I don't."

"There's no might to it," Brian said. "You're going. Hannah, are you going to make her an appointment?"

Hannah nodded. "Absolutely. First thing in the morning."

"Lovely," I said sarcastically.

"Harlie!" Hannah said, looking shocked at me.

She wasn't the only one looking shocked by my rudeness.

Clare squeezed my hand. "Stop it," she said quietly.

"Why are you actin' this way?" Adam asked me, looking a little bewildered.

I hesitated. "I don't know."

"Well, it's ridiculous. Go on to bed if you don't want to talk right to everybody."

I stood up, and went up the stairs without another word to anyone.

When I passed by Brian, he was glaring grimly at me, and I could tell it was taking all his self-restraint not to tear me limb from limb.

I got into my pajamas, and went to bed. I think I fell asleep right away, but dreams disturbed my sleep. They weren't good ones, either.

In the dream, the river was full of puppies, hundreds of them, and Evan just stood there, watching, while I yelled at him to save them. It was a terrible

dream.

7

In the morning, somebody tapped on my bedroom door.

"Breakfast!" Crane's voice said.

I got up and got dressed, and went down the hall to the bathroom.

When I came out, Guthrie was waiting for me at the head of the stairs.

"Hey, Guth," I said.

"Hey. How do you feel?"

I was tired, but I wasn't going to say so.

"I feel fine."

"You went a little crazy last night," he said, and there was a slight edge to his voice.

"I was blindsided. Evan shouldn't have done it that way."

"Still, though. You really upset Hannah."

"If Evan had kept quiet, then Hannah wouldn't have had to be upset at all."

Guthrie snorted. "She was upset because of everything. And then when you got all snarky, it really bothered her."

Well, that got to me. Throughout Hannah's pregnancy, Guthrie and I have had an unspoken agreement to protect her, and keep her

from any upset.

I felt a lump lodge in my throat. "I don't want to upset Hannah! Not ever, Guthrie. You know that!"

"Well, then, don't be a jerk around her-"

We were interrupted by Evan, coming out of his room, and starting down the stairs.

"Morning," he said, going around us.

"Hey, Ev," Guthrie said.

I said nothing at all.

Evan gave me a cursory glance, but I looked pointedly at the floor instead of at him.

When it was just Guthrie and I again, he said quietly, "Just a heads up. You might want to cool the attitude around

Brian. He was pretty pissed off at you last night."

A shiver ran down my back.

In the kitchen, everybody was sitting down at the table. Hannah smiled at me.

"Good morning, sweetie," she greeted me.

"Good morning."

Everybody started eating, and nobody mentioned the night before.

Hannah handed me my lunch as Guthrie and I headed out the door. "I'm going to call and make you a doctor's appointment," she said.

I knew it was inevitable, so I just nodded. "Okay."

I went to check on the puppy before we left, separating him from the others, and leaving him extra softened food, and some of the puppy milk

supplement. I resolved to look for the heat lamp when I got home from school.

School was long. I had trouble focusing for some reason.

Guthrie and I gave Kristin a ride home from school. Mostly her and Guthrie talked, while I subsided into silence, my thoughts elsewhere.

Kristin nudged me, and I looked at her, startled.

"Huh?"

"Guthrie say I should come over this weekend to see the puppies."

"Oh, yeah. That'd be good."

Before Kristin got out at her house, she gave me a worried look. "I'll call you tonight, and see when your doctor appointment is. Okay?"

"Okay."

7

We went to the kitchen as soon as we got home and found Hannah sitting at the table, drinking lemonade and eating a sugar cookie.

"Hey, you two," she said. "Want some cookies?"

"Definitely," Guthrie said, and went to get a glass out of the cabinet.

"You want milk, Har?" he asked me, as he poured some for himself.

"No, thanks."

Guthrie sat down at the table, and helped himself to several of the sugar cookies.

"Did you call the doctor?" I asked, deciding to be direct.

"I did," Hannah said, looking at me. "Your appointment is tomorrow morning at 9:30."

I nodded, and said, "Gotta change my clothes and check on the pups."

"I checked on them once today."

"You did? Thanks, Hannah. How is he?"

"He seemed fine. Evan was with them a little bit ago. He's been feeding the little guy all day."

"Oh."

I put on my old jeans and boots, stuffed all the money I had in my drawer in my pocket, and went outside, looking in on the puppies. My puppy, as I already thought of him,

was laying under a heat lamp. He seemed to be enjoying it, too. I rubbed his belly, warm from the light, and then went to

do my chores.

Evan and I crossed paths as I returned the feed buckets after feeding the goats.

"I found the heat lamp," he said off-handedly.

"I see."

"He's been eating pretty good today. But I think he's had enough until later tonight."

"Okay."

I reached into my jean's pocket for the ten dollars.

"Here," I said, holding it out to him.

Evan looked at it without taking it.

"What's that for?"

"For taking him to Doc G's."

"Don't worry about it."

"I told you I'd pay you back. I know it's more than this. I'll get it to you as soon as I can."

"I said don't worry about it. The puppies are kind of like my project, too. I don't mind helping out."

"Then use this for the supplement at the feed store," I said, and Evan reached out to take the money.

"Alright," he said.

I went in to sit with all the puppies then.

"How long should he stay under the light?" I asked. "Doc didn't say."

"You can probably turn it off right now, and then back on before you go to bed tonight."

I turned off the light and scooped the puppy up, holding his little warm body next to my chest.

Evan turned to go, and then hesitated, stopping, and turning back.

"Look, Harlie, I know you're mad at me for telling about you getting dizzy. And I'm sorry about that part of it. But I won't apologize

to you for letting the family know. I guess you'll just have to be mad at me."

I didn't answer, I just buried my face in the puppy's fur, and Evan walked away.

7

I picked at my supper, and nobody even said a word to me about it. I was lost in my own thoughts, anyway. I was

beginning to wonder if there really was something wrong, causing me to get dizzy like I had. And I HAD been really tired a lot lately.

Hannah was looking thru her sewing basket when I passed thru the living room later. She had her back turned to me,

and I went up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist.

"I'm sorry about upsetting you last night, Hannah."

"It's alright. We all have our moments."

"You never do. You're always so good, and kind, and sweet. To all of us."

I dropped my arms, and Hannah turned around to face me. "Try not to worry too much, sweetie. We'll get it figured out

at the doctor's."

I nodded.

"I do think, though, that you should watch how you treat Evan over this. He did the right thing. And he did it out of love."

"I know."

"So treat him a little gently, okay? You have the power to hurt all of your brothers greatly."

"Me?" I looked at her, incredulous.

Hannah tapped the end of my nose with her finger. "Yes, you."

"I'm not trying to be difficult, Hannah, or hurt anybody. I just-"

"I know, You're a little scared."

I looked into Hannah's sweet, understanding face, and felt myself choke up. It HAD been really scary, getting dizzy like that while I

was driving. I hadn't really been able to let myself feel that, or express that, because I felt that I had to downplay it so the family wouldn't

go crazy hovering over me. And look what had happened, It had still worked out that way. Crazy. Hovering.

I nodded. "Yeah. A little."

Hannah reached out and pulled me close. She hugged me for a really long time.

7

The next morning I was eating my eggs and toast, not talking, when Hannah asked me, "Are you going to school for the

first hour, and I'll pick you up? Or do you just want to stay home and go to school after the appointment?"

"I'll go to first hour," I said, after thinking for a minute.

"Okay."

Clare passed behind me, taking her and Brian's plates to the sink.

"Hey, do you care if I tag along today to the doctor with you and Hannah?" she asked, pausing beside my chair.

I looked at her, gratefully. "I don't care. I mean, I'd like it if you did."

Clare smiled, and gave my shoulder a light squeeze.

I went to gather up my books and backpack. Guthrie was in a hurry to be off to school that morning. Something about meeting

up with Trent and some of the other guys before class.

Adam followed me into the living room.

"We'll get this thing figured out after you see the doctor today," he said, sounding calm and

reassuring.

I looked at him, and nodded.

Adam came to me, and rubbed my upper arm with his hand.

"Hang tough, sugar."

I nodded again.

7

When they called my name over the school intercom system, I went to the office. Hannah signed me out and

when we got out to her little Gremlin, Clare was waiting. I squeezed into the back seat, and looked out the window,

not talking in the short time it took to drive to Dr. Fairbanks' office.

We were in the doctor's office over two hours. By the time we left, I'd had my finger pricked, my head was

sort of spinning, and my whole life had changed.

7


	4. Unknown

There was silence in the Gremlin. Hannah kept looking in the rear view mirror at me, her face full of worry. Clare finally broke

the silence, twisting in her seat to look back at me.

"It sounds scary, Harlie. But it doesn't have to be. You can learn what you need to know. And as long as you do what

you're supposed to, then it doesn't have to be as bad as it sounds."

I didn't answer. I just looked out the window, and Hannah said, "Do you want to go home, Harlie?"

"No."

"I just thought-you might feel better if you were home for the rest of the day-"

"No. I'll go back to school."

"Alright."

At the entrance of the school, Clare moved her seat forward and stood on the sidewalk, so I could climb out of the back seat.

"I'll see you later," I said.

"Alright, sweetie," Hannah said.

I looked at her face, and sighed. "Don't worry about me, Hannah."

"Well, I can't promise that. But I'll see you this afternoon when you get home."

Afterwards, I had to wonder why I'd bothered going back to school. I didn't hear a word any of the teachers said that afternoon. Or if I

did hear it, it didn't soak into my brain. It was still lunch period when I got there, but I went to the school library instead of the cafeteria or

the outside lunch tables. I sat down at one of the library tables and tried to read a book, but the words on the pages kept fading together, and I couldn't concentrate anyway. I finally

gave up, and slammed the book down on the table. The librarian, Mrs. Rose, who has been the school librarian since Brian and Adam went to high school here,

looked up from where she was sorting books, and said, curtly, "Miss McFadden!"

I looked at her questioningly, and she said, "There's no need for slamming books that way."

"Sorry."

A few minutes later, the big oak door opened, and Guthrie came in, carrying an apple in his hand.

"Hey," he greeted me, sliding into the seat beside me. "Some of the kids said they saw you come in here. How'd it go

at the doctor's office?"

"Not so good," I said.

"What? Did he find out you really are part hyena or somethin' like that?" he teased.

When I didn't answer, and didn't smile, Guthrie's grin faded. "You mean there is somethin' wrong? What is it?"

The bell rang for lunch period to be over, and I stood up, shoving the chair back to the table.

"I'm not gonna die or anything like that. Don't look so worried."

"Well, what is it?"

I started walking towards the door to the hallway, and Guthrie stayed at my side.

"Come on, Har. You're scaring me here."

"We'll be late to class. I'll tell you later."

Guthrie grabbed my wrist, and yanked me to a halt. "I don't give a damn if we're late to class! Tell me right now, Har, I mean it!"

"It's diabetes. Juvenile diabetes."

Guthrie looked stunned for a minute, and then confused. I understood that look. I felt that way myself. We neither one knew anything

about diabetes. I don't think we'd ever known anybody who had it.

"Oh," he said, slowly, like he was thinking. "Well, is that bad? I mean, is it serious?"

"The doctor says it is. Or it can be, I guess." I shrugged. "There's all this stuff you have to do-"

"Oh."

The late bell rang, and we started walking again.

"Well, what did Clare say? She probably knows a lot about it, huh?"

"She said it doesn't have to be scary if you do what you're supposed to do."

"Well," Guthrie said, looking relieved. "That's good, then. Right?"

"Sure," I said dully, and Guthrie looked worried again.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. See you after school."

"Okay," he said, and as we parted, I could see him watching me, his forehead wrinkled in worry.

7777777

After school, Guthrie asked me if I wanted to stop for a Coke or ice cream at the Dari Kurl. I told him no, and as he

drove past, I said, "You can, though. Go ahead if you want."

"Naw. That's okay. I think Hannah's making fried chicken tonight."

The thought of fried chicken made my stomach roll.

I looked out the window the rest of the way home.

Guthrie tried once more to start me to talking. "So what do you have to do first, with this diabetes?"

"Eat certain things, take shots, check the level or whatever it is. I don't want to talk about it, okay, Guth?"

"Okay," he said, reluctantly.

At home I got out, realizing too late that I'd left most of my homework in my locker at school. Now, I like school, except for math, and

my grades are mostly all A's. I hardly ever forget to bring home anything that needs done, but for the first time that I could remember, I

didn't give a dang whether I got a bad grade or not.

I didn't even go inside, like I usually do, to change my clothes and say hello to Hannah. I went on to the barn to check on the puppies,

holding the little one to my cheek. "Hey there, little warrior," I said. Evan had left the heat lamp on him again, and he was all warm to the touch.

The other puppies looked as though they were enjoying the heat, too.

I put him down to go feed the goats, and chickens, and when I went back to put the buckets away, Evan and I passed by each other.

"Hi, Har," he said.

"Hi."

"I put the lamp on the little guy."

"I saw."

"He didn't eat so well today."

"Alright. I'll try to feed him."

I started to walk around him, when he put out his hand, and said, "Hey, shortcake."

"What?" I asked.

When he didn't say anything, but just looked at me, with a non-Evan kind of look on his face, all sorrowful, and full of pity, I knew

he'd been filled in on my news from the doctor.

"What, Evan?" I asked, irritated, putting my hands on my hips, and daring him to say any more.

"I was just going to say-"

"What?! That you were right, and I was wrong? That it's a good thing you told everybody, so that I could find out that I'm sick?"

I realized I was almost yelling when Evan gave me a shocked look.

"No. I wasn't going to say any of that. I was going to say-well, never mind." He turned to walk away, and I knew

that I'd hurt him. But at that moment, I couldn't bring myself to care. I went into the barn, going

into the stall with the puppies, and closing the door. I sat down on the blankets, and let them crawl all over me, and around me.

I heard Hannah calling me, but I didn't move.

Diabetes. I said it out loud. "Diabetes."

I suddenly, for the first time since I'd heard the word that morning, had a chance to process my feelings. All day long, I'd felt stunned,

scared, sad. I didn't understand why this was happening. Just out of nowhere. One day I'm a normal teenager, then when I feel tired, and thirsty a lot, and have

no appetite, it means I have something wrong with me. I admit it, the thoughts I had were, why me?

I heard my name being called again. Stronger this time, and louder. Adam.

I stood up, realizing my school clothes were smelly and dirty. A barn is not someplace you wear a new sweater and your best

pair of jeans.

I kissed my little warrior on the head, and closed up the stall.

"I'll be back to feed you later," I promised him.

By the time I'd stepped out of the barn, into the sunshine, Adam was just starting to come in.

"I figured you'd be out here," he said.

"Yeah."

We stood there, neither one of us saying anything for a minute. Then without any notice, Adam reached out and

pulled me into a tight hug.

He hugged me for a couple of minutes, and then patted my back.

"Tough day, huh, sugar?"

"I've had better."

"And you will again. This is just one day."

I nodded, but I didn't say anything.

"It's time for supper. Come on," he said, and we walked to the house.

"I don't know anything about diabetes, Adam," I said quietly.

He hesitated a minute, and then wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "Well, I don't either. I guess we'll have to learn, though, right?"

"I guess."

Hannah was waiting at the front door. I knew she noticed that my clothes were dirty, because she started to say something, but

then hesitated, and said instead, "Why don't you go up and change real quick?"

Any other time, she would have got onto me for wearing my school clothes to do chores in.

I went upstairs to change, and ended up laying on my bed for a few minutes.

I wished I could just stay right there, and blast my radio loud, and escape into a book to forget everything, but I knew if I didn't go

down to supper, somebody would come and get me. According to the doctor, missing meals is a big no with diabetes.

When I walked into the kitchen, everybody was milling around, setting stuff on the table, or scooting their chairs up to the table.

Clare smiled at me. "There's a chick flick on tv tonight," she said. "You want to watch together?"

"I don't know," I said.

"I'll take that as a big old yes," she said, firmly.

Brian went past me as I was starting to sit down, a bottle of barbeque sauce in his hand.

"Hey, peach," he said.

"Hi."

Brian looked as though he wanted to say something more, but he didn't, and I was glad.

Crane was missing from his spot across the table. I wondered briefly where he was, but I didn't ask. Probably out with Lila.

I picked up my piece of chicken, and started eating.

"You can take the skin off if it upsets your stomach," Hannah said quietly.

"It's okay," I said, and it was while I was eating my green beans that I realized everybody was watching me, while trying to pretend they

weren't watching me. Well, Evan and Guthrie weren't, they were too busy eating. But Hannah and Adam, Clare and Brian, were all giving me covert

glances.

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I put down my fork, and said, "I'm finished. Can I be excused?"

Hannah looked down the table at Adam, and he gave a slight nod of permission.

"Alright," Hannah said, and I got up, pushing in my chair, and heading back outside, stopping long enough to fill a bowl with warm water to take

to the barn.

"I'll be out in a minute, Har," Guthrie told me.

"Okay."

I made my escape, and took a deep breath when I stepped out into the clean-smelling air. Out here it didn't smell like fried chicken. And out here

nobody was watching me as if I might explode or something.

I mixed up the milk supplement for Warrior, noticing for the first time that Evan had gotten the new sack of it from the feed store.

I gave the puppies their softened food, and fed Warrior separately. He ate about half of what I fixed, and I took him outside to sit in the sun.

It was while I was sitting there, stroking his soft fur, that I began to cry. I was suddenly so tired, and so discouraged.

I saw Guthrie walking towards me, but I made no attempt to curb my tears. I didn't think I could.

Guthrie sat down beside me on the bale of hay I was sitting on. He reached out to pet the puppy, and didn't say anything for a few minutes.

He put his arm around my shoulders, and we just sat there, quietly, me crying, and the puppy making little grunting puppy noises.

Finally, when my tears tapered off a little, Guthrie folded his hands in front of him and leaned forward a little, his arms on his knees.

"What're you going to name him?" he asked.

"Warrior, I think."

"That's cool."

"Crane says he has the strength of a warrior. That he's a fighter. I thought it was a good name for him."

"I guess Crane's out with Lila again."

"Oh. I figured he was. "

I was immensely grateful to Guthrie at that moment. He was a comfort, without talking about the subject I wanted to avoid.

"I think Crane really likes her," I said, continuing with our light conversation.

"Yeah. She seems real nice."

"I'll get the rest of the puppies out, too," Guthrie said. "It'll do them good to get some sun."

"Okay."

When all the puppies were scampering around in the yard, Guthrie and I sat down on the grass, watching, and letting them climb

all over us.

"Did they all talk about me when I left the supper table?" I asked him.

"Yeah. Some. You know they won't say a whole bunch in front of me, though."

"Cause they know you'll tell me," I said.

"Probably."

"So what did they say?"

"Well, they're all worried about you. Clare says you have to follow what you're supposed to do. Hannah says she thinks you're in shock about it

or somethin'. Adam didn't say a whole lot. Brian says everybody should just act normal about it, and not treat you with kid gloves or anything."

I had to smile a little at that. Good old Brian.

"I'll bet since you're out here with me, they're all in there having a big pow wow about it now," I said.

"More than likely," Guthrie agreed.

"What are you and Kristin doing this weekend?" I asked him.

"Maybe the movies. You want to go?"

"I don't know," I shrugged.

"Tony wants to take you out again, you know."

I shrugged again. "Maybe," I said.

"Come on. The four of us can go. It'll be fun."

"Maybe," I said, again.

Adam came walking over to us then. "Hey, you two," he said.

We both said hi, and he leaned down to pet one of the puppies.

"Hey, sugar, come on inside, will you?" he said.

I sighed. I knew what was coming. The talk. And I wished desparately I could avoid it.

I got to my feet reluctantly, and brushed off the seat of my jeans.

"I'll put 'em up in the barn," Guthrie told me, and I nodded, sighing again, as I walked to the house with Adam.

Adam must have heard my sighs, because he said lightly, "We just want to talk about everything, Harlie. You don't have to act like you're

being taken to the guillotine."

"I think I'd rather go to the guillotine," I said.

7


	5. Orange is the practice fruit

When we went inside to the living room Brian was sitting on the couch, his feet on the coffee table, and Clare and Hannah

were standing together, talking.

When I sort of stalled there by the door, Adam gave me a little push forward. "Sit down somewhere, sugar," he said.

"How about upstairs in my room?" I said darkly, and Adam wrinkled his forehead at me, not sure whether I was joking or

being sarcastic.

"Let me rephrase that," he said. "Sit down somewhere, in this room."

I sighed again, and sat down in one of the recliners, pulling off my boots, and dropping them beside the chair, and then

tucking my feet up under me.

"We want to talk to you, all of us, about what the doctor said," Hannah began.

"Uh huh," I said.

Clare started out by reminding me again, just like she had in the car earlier, that as long as I followed what the doctor said to do, it didn't have to be horrible.

"Okay," I said.

"So," Adam said, looking at Hannah and Clare for clarification, "that means regular meals, and enough rest, and checking your

blood sugar level."

I nodded.

"And doing your daily injections," Clare added, and I winced at the thought of the daily shots.

For a long couple of moments there was silence in the room, a heavy silence.

"You seem like you're not quite taking it all in yet," Hannah said. "It's overwhelming, I know-"

"I'm taking it all in," I said. "I understand everything."

"We're all going to read what Hannah brought home from the doctor," Adam said, gesturing at the pamphlets on

the coffee table that told about diabetes. "So we can learn what we need to."

"And checking your blood sugar so often is going to be a big giant pain," Clare said. "But it has to be done."

"I know," I said, slumping down in the chair a little.

"You've got to take this seriously," Adam said. "If you don't take care of yourself, it can be real bad."

"For my eyesight and kidneys," I said. "I know."

"So, should we practice the shots now?" Clare asked cheerfully, like she was asking me to go play tennis or something.

"Sure. Why not? It sounds like a huge amount of fun," I said, not keeping the sarcasm out of my voice.

Clare didn't look bothered by my sarcasm, but Adam was a different story.

"Harlie," he said, warningly, and when I looked at him, he was frowning.

"Am I supposed to be happy about it?" I asked, feeling belligerent.

Before Adam could open his mouth to answer me, Brian, who'd been silent up to this point, spoke up.

"Hell, no, you're not supposed to be happy about it," he said sharply. "But it's the cards you were dealt, so cowgirl up, and do what needs

to be done."

Everybody kind of stared at Brian then, including me, and then, strangely, I felt a little better.

"Okay," I said quietly, getting to my feet, and looking at Clare. "I'm ready."

Clare used an orange to show me how to do the shots on myself. And then I practiced on the orange. Evan came in while we were

doing it, and I felt even more conspicuous.

"This feels stupid," I said.

"I know," she said. "But practicing on an orange is the best way to learn."

After I'd jabbed the orange a few more times, Clare asked me,

"Are you ready to do it for real? Or do you want to take a break?"

I took a deep breath. "I'm ready. But can we go upstairs and do it, so it's just you and me, and Hannah?

I don't want everybody watching me."

"Sure," she said.

Once we were in my bedroom, I hesitated. "Let me practice on the orange some more," I said.

I practiced a couple more times, and then looked at Hannah, sitting beside me, and Clare, standing at the side

of the bed. "I'm losing my nerve," I admitted.

"That's okay," Hannah said.

"I can do for you," Clare said. "At least for awhile. Is that what you want?"

I nodded, feeling overwhelmed, tears pricking at my eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said, and started to cry.

"You don't have to be sorry, you silly goose," Clare said, and, after a couple of minutes and some pain, she was done giving me the

shot.

"Over," she said.

"Yeah. Until tomorrow," I said glumly, swiping at my wet cheek. "Don't tell Brian I couldn't do it myself, okay?"

"He won't think less of you," Clare said.

"Just please don't tell him, okay?"

"Alright. I won't."

I covered my face with my hands. Hannah put her arms around me, and rocked back and forth.

"I know," she said soothingly. "It's just not fair."

"I need to stop crying," I said.

"Who says so?" Clare said stoutly. "Cry if you want to."

After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door, and Hannah looked at me. "The fellas are getting worried," she said. "Can they come in?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

When Hannah said 'come in', Adam opened the door and asked, "Everything okay?"

His tanned face was lined with worry. Brian wasn't far behind. He looked worried, too.

"Everything's fine in here, cowboy," Hannah told him. "Right, Harlie?"

I could tell her and Clare both wanted me to act all positive, like I was doing alright, so I nodded, and said, "Right," even

though it's not how I really felt.

I don't think I fooled Adam, though, because after Hannah and Clare headed downstairs behind Brian, Adam was still

standing there. He cleared his throat, and then came to sit beside me on my bed.

He just took my hand in one of his, and then covered it with his other one.

"I don't have the words to make it any better for you, baby girl," he said quietly.

Adam hasn't called me baby girl in a really long time. When I was younger, he used to call me that all the time.

I met his eyes, and I knew he could tell I'd been crying. I also knew he was aware of a lot of the feelings I was

experiencing.

"I know."

"I'm sorry this is happening to you."

"I know," I said again. After a couple of minutes, I said, "You haven't called me that in a long time."

"What?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"You called me baby girl just now."

"Oh. I didn't even realize it. Well, that's what you are, you know. My baby girl."

"When I was little, you always called me that."

"I remember."

Brian started hollering up the stairs for us, saying that Hannah wanted us to come downstairs.

"Get ready. She's probably got a snack ready for you," Adam told me, giving me a nudge in the ribs.

"No doubt," I said dryly.

"And you're gonna eat it, too," he said, firmly.

7777777

The next morning I felt tired, and sluggish, and really irritable. I wished I could saddle Petra up and ride the day

away, not seeing another person for hours, except maybe Guthrie. I wouldn't mind if Guthrie was along with

me.

But it was only Wednesday. And of course I had to go to school. I had to test my blood sugar before breakfast,

and Clare helped me with that. Brian stood close by, watching, and I didn't like that very much.

"Listen, I'm not going to be home tonight," Clare told me. "I've got class today, and then I'm going to study

with some of the other nursing students. Hannah will help you with your shot tonight."

"Okay," I said, dejected.

"Try to keep your mood up," Clare told me.

"My mood's alright," I said, putting my jacket on.

"Uh huh," Clare said, giving me a raised eyebrow look.

Crane caught me by the front door as Guthrie and I were heading out to check on the pups before

we left for school.

"I heard the news," he said, looking serious and sad.

"Yeah. Great news, huh?"

"Pretty rotten news," Crane said.

I shrugged. "Do we have to talk about it?"

"No. Let's talk about your algebra. Did you get it done without my help last night?"

I thought of my algebra assignment, left in my locker, unfinished. Along with my science and English, also

unfinished.

"Yeah. I got it done."

"Well, go get it. I'll check it over for you real quick."

"I got it done at school, and turned it in already," I said glibly, without even thinking about it, and then

realized that I'd just lied to Crane, and that it hadn't been difficult at all to do so. And what was even more

surprising than that, was the fact that I didn't even feel guilty about lying.

"Oh. Well, good," Crane said.

"Yeah. See you later," I said, starting out the front door after Guthrie.

"Hey," Crane said, catching my arm. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm sure," I said, feeling impatient.

Crane looked unconvinced, but he let me go. "Alright. See you later."

"Bye, Crane," Guthrie said, and we went out the door.

As we headed to the barn to feed the puppies, Guthrie gave me a sideways glance.

"You didn't get your math done," he said, with the certainty of a brother who knows all my secrets.

"Give the smart boy a gold star!" I said.

Guthrie shook his head at me, but he smiled, too, even though I was being sarcastic.

We were climbing into his truck, when Hannah hollered from the porch.

I groaned and muttered, but walked back over to where her and Adam were standing.

"Here," she said, holding out a small sack. "It's a couple of granola bars and apple slices for you

to snack on between classes."

"Okay. Thanks."

"If you get to feeling bad, you can call," Hannah said.

"I'll be fine," I said.

"I know you will be," she said. "But you can still call if you need to."

"Okay," I sighed, and made my escape.

As Guthrie pulled out of our driveway, he said, "I thought I'd pick Kristin up this morning."

"Fine by me," I said.

"It's not smart to be lying to Crane," Guthrie said.

"It's not that big a deal," I said. "It's not like it's about anything really important."

Guthrie gave me an 'I can't believe you' look.

"Guth-a-reee," I said, dragging out his name and crossing my eyes at him.

When Guthrie didn't even crack a glimmer of a smile, I sighed.

"Look at it this way," I pointed out. "In ten years, five years, a year, will it really matter that I

lied to Crane about some algebra homework?"

"You're crazy," Guthrie said.

"I kind of like being crazy. Maybe I'll keep doing it," I said, and when Guthrie looked at

me questioningly, I leaned forward to turn the radio up.

"Alright! Tanya Tucker!" I said, effectively ending the conversation.

7

I didn't have that great of a day. I had a kind of 'who cares?' type of attitude. I think I was still reeling from

finding out about having diabetes. My day wasn't helped any when it came time to hand in homework assignments

in English, algebra and science. To say that my teachers were surprised by my lack of completed work

would be an understatement. I'm a good student, the kind that's responsible about homework, and that

doesn't get into trouble.

They all asked me what happened to cause me to not turn in my work, and I told them all the same thing.

That I hadn't been feeling well the night before. Which was the truth. But it didn't change the fact that Miss George

gave me a zero on the algebra assignment. Mr. Fornelli told me that I could turn the late work in the next day, but that he

would take off a letter grade on it.

Mrs. Fisher told me to turn in the English the next day, and that's all she said, but combined with the work from today,

that meant I had a truckload of homework to do.

When we stopped at the Dari Kurl after school with Kristin, I got out to hang out with some of the other

kids, and when Guthrie started trying to get me to leave, I convinced him to stay awhile longer. Finally,

he insisted. "Come on, Har," he said. "I've got a ton of homework. And we've got chores. Adam and Brian

are gonna be pissed."

By the time we'd dropped Kristin off at her house, and reached our driveway, we were almost an hour and

a half later than usual getting home.

Guthrie parked and went straight to his chores. I decided I'd better do the same. We crossed paths with

Adam as we headed to the barn.

"Well," he said, surveying us, his hands on his hips. "Nice of you two to make an appearance."

"Sorry," Guthrie said.

"Where have you been?"

"We went to the Dari Kurl," Guthrie said.

Adam clearly didn't think that was a worthy excuse by the expression on his face, so I spoke

up quickly, "And then we took Kristin home. And I was worried about her. You know how things are

with her family-" I let my voice trail off, and Adam, being familiar with Kristin's home situation, came to the conclusion I'd meant for him to reach.

"Oh," he said, looking concerned. "Is she alright?"

"Yeah. It's just her stepfather is such a jerk sometimes."

"Okay. Tell her to get over here sometime soon."

"Maybe this weekend," I said. "Sorry we're late, Adam."

"Well, get your chores done, and get inside. Supper's almost ready. Hannah's been worried about you."

When Adam had walked away, Guthrie was looking at me with his eyebrows raised.

"What the heck was all that about?" he asked. "Kristin's fine."

"I didn't lie. I do worry about Kristin. And her stepfather is a jerk."

"Yeah. But you let Adam think somethin' was going on with her today to make us late gettin' home."

"So? It got us off the hook, didn't it?"

"I guess," Guthrie said, doubtfully.

"You worry too much, Guthrie," I told him.

7

When we went into supper, Hannah got onto both Guthrie and I for being so late getting

home, and for not calling.

"That's just common courtesy," she said.

We both apologized, and I gave her the same routine about Kristin that I'd given Adam.

"Okay," she said, "but you still could have called."

"Sorry," Guthrie said, again. He frowned at me. I knew he didn't like me lying to Hannah.

"What did you eat when you stopped at the Dari Kurl?" Hannah asked me, looking worried.

"Nothing. I had a Coke."

"Well, Coke isn't really what you should be drinking," she said, her voice trailing off when she saw

the look on my face. Oh my gosh, it was starting already! Everybody was going to be watching and

measuring everything I ate and drank from now on.

"Well, never mind," she said. "Did you eat the snacks I sent with you this morning?"

"Yeah. I did."

"Alright," she said, looking appeased.

After supper I talked Guthrie into doing my turn with dishes, so that I could get started on

my mountain of homework.

"I've got homework, too," Guthrie protested.

"Not as much as I do. Come on, Guth, please. I'll take your turn real soon."

"Fine," Guthrie said with a deep sigh.

I was sitting at the desk, surrounded by all my homework, when Crane came and leaned

on the edge of the desk, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Hi," I said, looking up at him.

"Hi."

"Do you need to sit here?" I asked him.

"No, that's alright. Looks like you have a lot of work tonight."

"Yeah, unfortunately."

"Need any help with your algebra?"

I lifted the corner of the stack of my papers, and then let it fall.

"It's here somewhere," I said. "I want to do the English first, though."

"Okay," he said. "What's your grade in there right now?"

"English? An A."

"Great. But I meant your math class."

"I think a C."

"You think? Or you know?"

"I know that I think it's a C," I said, trying for levity, but Crane didn't look particularly amused.

"High C? Or a low C?" he asked.

"Probably a low C."

"Aren't report cards due out pretty soon?"

"Yeah. Pretty soon," I said vaguely.

"Okay. I guess we'll see then, huh?"

"Uh huh," I said, starting to feel nervous. I knew very well that I didn't have a low C in algebra.

I had a D. That zero that I'd earned today sure wasn't going to help any, either.

I kind of squirmed a little in my chair. Crane was looking serious, like he always does when

he's talking to one of us about our grades.

"What's wrong?" Crane asked, noticing my discomfiture.

"Nothing," I said irritably. "I've just got a lot of work to do."

"Okay, okay," he said. "I can take a hint. I'll leave you alone."

After Crane left, I tried to work. I managed to do most of my English, but my concentration

was broken. I struggled with my science. I had a fierce headache, and there were too many

thoughts running rampant thru my brain. I laid my head down on my folded arms.

I don't know how long I'd stayed that way when I felt a hand on the back of my neck.

"How about some hot cocoa?"

I shook my head without raising it. "No."

"Aw, come on."

"It won't help."

"Sure, it will. My cocoa has been known to cure much and many. Magical powers and

all that."

I raised my face to Brian's eyes. There was kindness there, but also something else, too. I couldn't

quite decipher what it was.

"Is your magical powered cocoa going to make me not have diabetes anymore?"

I knew I sounded like a whiny little kid, but I couldn't seem to help myself.

"Maybe I should go upstairs and put on my Sunday clothes," Brian said, then.

"What's that mean?"

"Well, it seems like you're throwing quite a pity party for yourself right here." His tone left no question

as to what he thought of my attitude right then. He gestured towards his jeans and t-shirt.

"I'm thinkin' I'm not dressed for it. "

"I guess maybe I am doing that, a little," I admitted.

Brian's gaze softened a bit. "Come on to the kitchen with me."

I sighed, looking at the mound of homework and feeling overwhelmed.

"I'm nowhere near done with all this," I said.

"Well, what do you got left?"

"Science. And math."

"Well, bring your science and come on," he said, turning and going towards the kitchen.

7


	6. Frieda at the Hair Hut

Brian did an awesome job of helping me with my science. Our class has been studying the solar system, and

the assignment was to do a diagram of all the planets. When he saw the piece of paper Mr. Fornelli had

given us to draw on, he shook his head.

"Man, that's too small," he said critically. "I'll be back in a minute."

He disappeared, and when he came back he was carrying a big, blue sheet of poster sized paper.

"This'll work a lot better," he said.

"Where did that come from?" I asked.

"Clare brought a bunch of it home."

"Will she care if I use it?"

"Naw, she won't mind," he said, with certainty.

I just kind of sat back, and watched for a few minutes as Brian took over, grabbing colored

pencils, and sharpening them, and trimming a torn edge off of the paper.

He caught me watching him, and motioned me to stand up.

"Come on around here," he ordered. "I'm not gonna do it for you, you know."

For a moment I had the urge to giggle.

"Oh, shoot," I said breezily, "I thought you were."

Brian grinned at me, and I felt a little lighter, and better than I had since I'd sat there in

the doctor's office, hearing about how my life was going to change.

We worked on the diagram together for the next hour or so, and Brian helped me with some

of the drawing.

I don't know what the rest of the family was doing, but the kitchen was warm, and kind of cozy,

with just Brian and I in there. We didn't talk a whole lot, but it was the closest I'd come to feeling anywhere

near to happy since I'd left the doctor's office.

I even found myself enjoying the cocoa and eating a banana and graham crackers without feeling

like I was going to be sick.

Later, Hannah came into the kitchen, followed by Adam.

"This is where you two have been hiding out," she said.

"Brian's helping me with my solar system diagram," I said.

"I see that," Hannah said, smiling.

Adam leaned down over the poster to study it. "Wow," he said. "I am impressed."

"As you should be," Brian said smugly.

"I didn't know you knew so much about the solar system, Brian," Adam said, with a grin.

"I have many and varied talents that extend beyond delivering calves and changing tractor oil," Brian

said, pretending to be insulted.

"Duly noted," Adam said.

"I'm getting ready to head up to bed," Hannah said. "Can you take a break so we can do your shot?"

"Okay," I said.

"I can help her with it," Brian said, unexpectedly. I was looking surprised at him, and so was

Hannah, when he added, "If she wants me to, that is," and looked at me.

I nodded, feeling surprised at myself, that the thought of Brian helping with my shot felt

alright to me. "Yeah. Okay," I said.

"Do you think you can?" Hannah asked Brian, and then hurried to explain. "I mean, are you sure?"

"I've been practicing on an orange," Brian said. "I'll just make sure I shut my eyes and jab really fast

when I put the needle into her."

"Oh, ho!" I said, poking him in the side of his ribs. "Not funny!"

Hannah was looking almost misty-eyed at me, and I knew why.

She gave me a quick hug. "You're feeling better tonight," she said softly, in my ear.

"Yeah. A little."

"Night," Adam said, hugging me, too.

"Night."

After they'd gone, we went back to our respective drawing, and the kitchen settled into silence again.

It was broken only when I said quietly, "You've been practicing giving shots, huh?"

"Yeah. Thought it wouldn't hurt for me to know how."

That's all we said, but I watched his profile covertly for a couple of minutes. I realized what it meant

for Brian to be ready to step up and help me, even though he'd rather not have to think about giving me a

shot.

When we were done, Brian helped me roll up the diagram into a tube, and fastened a rubber band

around it. "There you go," he said, handing it to me, and then starting to gather up all the pencils.

"Thanks. I'll bet I get a really high grade on it. Probably an A."

"No doubt in my mind," Brian said.

When the kitchen was cleaned up, Brian asked if I wanted anything else to snack on.

"No, thanks. But your cocoa was extra good tonight."

"Good. Ready to do the shot?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Okay. Let's go." Brian snapped off the kitchen overhead light, and we went thru the

living room. Evan and Guthrie were watching a rerun of Gunsmoke on television.

"I'm turning in," Brian told them. "Guthrie, you best be gettin' to bed soon."

"Okay. Soon as this is over," Guthrie told him.

When Brian gave me the shot, I couldn't hide a wince of pain.

"I'm sorry, peach," he said, quietly. "I know Clare's a whole sight more practiced and gentle."

His eyes were full of sorry, too, and I shrugged.

"Probably because you had your eyes closed when you jabbed," I said, teasingly.

Brian smiled in appreciation of my attempt at humor.

"Maybe so," he said. "Go on and get your teeth brushed."

When I came out of the bathroom after brushing my teeth, Brian was waiting at my bedroom

door.

"Need anything else?" he asked me.

"I don't think so."

"Okay. Sleep good."

"Bri?" I said.

"Yeah?" he asked, looking at me expectantly.

"Thanks for your help on my work. And the cocoa. And-everything," I said.

Brian nodded, and I knew he understood what I meant.

"It was nice," I said. "Not having to talk about it. It helped."

"It doesn't have to change your whole life, peach," Brian said.

I didn't agree with that, but I wanted to end the evening with Brian as pleasantly as it had been so far.

If I argued with him about how diabetes was going to devastate my life, then he'd get all

stirred up, and start to lecture me, and then I'd get mad, too.

"Okay," I said.

7

I got up early the next morning to grab the bathroom for a shower before there was

no hot water left. I went downstairs to make the coffee, and then was trying to check my

blood sugar when Clare came into the kitchen.

"You're up early," she said.

"You too."

"I have a big test this morning, and I want to get there early enough to go over the material so

it's fresh in my mind."

I nodded, and Clare came closer, watching me.

"Good job," she said. "It's a little high, but I think you're on the right track."

She poured herself a cup of coffee. "Eat something like oatmeal this morning."

I wrinkled my nose. "Ugh," I said, and Clare laughed.

"Learn to love oatmeal," she said.

"It's like a giant crocodile," I said.

"The diabetes?" Clare guessed correctly.

"Yeah. Nothing is safe. It just gobbles up everything in its' path."

"More than the change in diet, you mean?"

"Yeah." I sighed. "Everything. Things I can eat, things I can do, things I can't do now, all of that."

"I think you'll feel a little better when you've gotten used to all of it," Clare said.

"I don't think I want to get used to all of it," I said sourly, and Clare looked at me very

serious looking.

She sat down in a kitchen chair next to mine. "Harlie," she said slowly, "We're good friends,

right?"

"Right."

"Well, I'm going to talk to you right now not so much as a friend, but more of as a big sister. Okay?"

I eyed her warily. "Okay. I guess."

"You need to be careful with more than just your levels, and the food you eat, and all of that. There's

something else that's just as important that you need to keep aware of."

"What?"

"You outlook. Your mood. The way your thoughts are going."

"What does that mean?" I asked, feeling impatient.

"It's normal to feel all sorts of emotions after being told you have something like diabetes. But it's also

common for some people to get very depressed after this kind of news. Sometimes, if you can't sort

out your feelings on your own, then you might need to talk to someone."

"A shrink?" I asked, not thrilled.

"No. A counselor. Or someone from the hospital that teaches patients about diabetes. A support

group."

"I don't need any of that."

"There's nothing wrong with it, Harlie."

"I know. I just don't think I need that. Not right now."

"Alright. I just want you to keep it in mind."

"I'm more angry about it all than I am depressed," I said.

"Okay." Clare regarded me, her face grave. "I want you to promise me something."

"What?"

"If you get to feeling worse than you do now, emotionally, I mean, I want you to come and

tell me. I have a friend at the hospital that's a counselor. Nobody but Adam and Hannah would

have to know."

"I'll be okay, Clare. Don't worry about me."

"Well, I do worry. I'm a big sister now. I want to do a good job, and Daniel says it's in the

older sibling rulebook. We have the right to worry."

I smiled a little. "Daniel and his rulebook," I said, shaking my head.

"Promise me, Harlie," she said, turning serious again.

"Okay. I promise."

Clare squeezed my hand, and got to her feet. "Got to go, or I'm going to be late. Have a good day,

little sis."

"You, too."

After Clare had gone, and I cleaned up all the stuff from checking my blood sugar, I made a pan of

oatmeal, and ate a bowl of it, and then went to gather up all my homework.

I was struggling with my algebra when Crane came into the living room, looking for me.

"Breakfast, peanut."

"I ate already."

"Yeah?" he asked, sounding disbelieving.

"Yeah," I said.

"What'd you eat?" he asked.

"Oatmeal. My bowl's in the sink if you don't believe me."

Crane raised an eyebrow at me.

"I'm getting really tired of people around here not believing me," I said crossly.

Things went silent in the room. More than just no talking. Even the air was still. And not in a good

way, either. I looked beyond Crane, and saw Hannah and Brian standing there listening.

Crane was frowning, and he looked puzzled.

"I didn't say I didn't believe you," he said quietly.

"It sounded like you didn't," I tried to explain lamely.

"Maybe it's more that I'm just concerned, and not that I don't believe you."

"Oh," I said.

Brian turned and went back to the kitchen, clearly angry. Hannah didn't look any too happy, either,

and she came closer, standing just beside Crane, although she didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry, Crane," I said. And I really was, too. Hurting Crane's feelings is like kicking a puppy.

"Okay," he said, still quietly, and turned to go back toward the kitchen.

Hannah stood there for a minute, just watching me.

"Harlie-" she began.

"I know. I was snarky to him."

"Yes. You were."

"And I shouldn't have been."

"No. You shouldn't."

"I apologized," I said, feeling like I was going to explode.

"You're lucky right now that it's me standing here, and not Brian or Adam," Hannah said.

I sighed. I knew she was right, too, but I shrugged, and gathered up my math worksheet, and

stuffed it into my backpack.

"I'll do better, Hannah."

"I hope so. Have you made things right with Evan?"

I shrugged again. "I've talked to him," I said vaguely.

"About?"

"About the vet bill, and the heat lamp, and milk replacement for the puppy."

I don't think I'd seen Hannah look quite that huffy at me for a long while. Her eyes were

snapping, and she put her hands on her hips.

"That's not what I mean, Harlie Marie, and you know it. I'm talking about letting him know

that you understand why he told us about what happened."

"I'll talk to him," I said.

"When?" she insisted.

"I don't know. Sometime soon." I stood up, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. "I'm going out

to feed the puppies. Can you tell Guthrie I'll be outside waiting?"

"I'll tell him," she said.

I stopped beside her. "I'm trying, Hannah. I am."

"Alright," Hannah said, but she didn't look particularly convinced.

I went out and threw my backpack into Guthrie's truck, and went on to the barn. I stayed there,

feeding the pups, and petting them, until Guthrie honked and hollered for me.

On the way to school Guthrie started up talking about the weekend again, saying that

he and Kristin, and Tony and I should go to the movies in Angels Camp.

"Yeah, okay. Maybe," I said.

Later, when Mr. Fornelli saw my poster of the solar system assignment, he was suitably impressed.

"Good job, Harlie," he approved. "I look forward to giving this a better look."

That praise from him gave me the courage to ask Miss George about what my grade in her math class was.

Miss George looked thru her gradebook, but I'm fairly certain she didn't really need to do that, and

that she already knew the answer to my question.

"You have a 61 percent, Harlie," she said, looking at me over the top of her glasses.

"That's a D-, right?" I asked, with a sinking feeling.

"That's correct. That zero on Tuesday's homework assignment certainly didn't help anything. And then

you had a low score on last week's test."

I remembered that test. I'd blown off studying for it because I'd been so tired.

"Is there any way to raise my grade quickly?"

"As in before grade cards are sent out?" she guessed.

"Yes," I admitted.

"Well, we teachers are to have all our grades turned in by Monday morning. With this being Thursday,

you've left it a little late to start being concerned, Harlie."

I sighed. "I know."

"Did you turn in your homework assignment from yesterday?"

I pointed to the in box on Miss George's desk. "Yes. It's in there. I'm not sure how correct it is, though," I

said, remembering that I hadn't had Crane help me with it.

"Well, it's definitely better than not turning it in at all. Finish your assignment from today, and turn

it in, and it might raise your grade a few points. It will most likely still be a grade of D, though."

"I understand," I said, thinking about how mad at me Crane was going to be.

"Well, after all, Harlie, it is caused by a lack of effort on your part," Miss George said, sounding

superior.

"That's not true."

Even as Miss George's bushy eyebrows drew together, I wondered whose voice that was, sounding so

rude. Oh, wait. It was mine. I had the inane thought right then that Miss George needed

to pluck her eyebrows.

"Excuse me?" she said.

I was thinking of all those nights with Crane at the kitchen table, working on and struggling with

my math.

"I said, that's not true. I have been trying. I know I should have turned in my assignment from

Tuesday night, but I really wasn't feeling well that night. For your information, I got some very

bad news that day. It wouldn't hurt for you to give kids a break sometimes."

Miss George rose to her not considerable height of five feet, three inches.

"Harlie, you may go to Mr. Best's office," she said, two bright spots of color on her cheeks.

"I didn't mean to sound so rude-" I said, trying to backtrack.

"That may be. But you can still go to the office."

"Miss George-"

"Harlie! Go!" Miss George said.

Well, that's when I lost my temper.

"Fine, I'll go!" I snapped. "This is a perfect example of you not caring about anything but

algebra, and not giving anyone a break!"

I went to grab my math book from off my desk, and stalked over to the doorway. As I opened it,

I turned back to fire a parting shot at Miss George.

"Maybe you should go see Frieda at the Hair Hut, and she can pluck your eyebrows!" I said.

On the way to the office, I daringly took the time to stop at my locker, to shove my

math book inside.

Mr. Best was in a meeting with some of the teachers, so I had plenty of time to sit there

and wait. And think. I'm not the kind of student who gets sent to the principal's office. I mean,

other than a couple months ago when Guthrie fought with Seth, and that time in second grade

when I pulled Denise Nash's hair at recess, I've never been in this situation.

The longer I sat there, the more worried I became. I really had done it this time.

When Mr. Best opened his office door, and ushered several teachers out, he gave me

a serious look, and, since his usual smile for me was absent, I knew he'd been made aware of

what had happened.

"Come on in, Harlie," he said.

I tried explaining my side of things to him, but Mr. Best was not sympathetic.

"It's not appropriate to argue with a teacher that way, Harlie. I'm disappointed in you."

I like Mr. Best, I really do. I mean, he's not a jerk like a lot of principals that you hear about,

and he has a soft spot for us McFadden kids because he's good friends with Crane. So, I felt

badly when he said that.

"I know you had some upsetting news this week, learning about having diabetes," he said, "but

you're better than what happened today, Harlie."

"I know," I sighed.

He told me that I would be suspended the rest of the day, and tomorrow, too.

"I'll call your house and see who can come and pick you up," he said.

I suddenly, with abrupt certainty, knew I was going to be sick. I stood up, and ran out of the office, past

Mrs. Wilson's desk, and to the girl's restroom.

After I'd thrown up, I got a paper towel, and wet it with cold water, and wiped my face. I felt really bad, sick, and

kind of strange. My feet and legs felt all prickly. I stayed there for a little while, afraid that I'd be sick again.

After awhile I made my way back to the office slowly, happening by chance upon Guthrie and Trent, helping

Coach Newport carry in some bags of basketballs from the outside courtyard.

"Hi, Har," Guthrie greeted me.

I waved a hand at him, and kept on walking. I heard Guthrie say something to Trent, and then he ran up

behind me.

"You okay?" he asked me.

"No. I'm getting suspended."

I thought Guthrie's eyes were going to pop out in surprise.

"No way."

I stopped walking and looked up at him.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" I demanded.

"No. What happened?"

I told Guthrie briefly about what had happened. When I got to the part about the Hair Hut and Miss George's

thick eyebrows, I thought Guthrie was going to bust out laughing right there in the hallway.

"You're so dead," he said.

"I know." I could only imagine what three certain guys named Adam, Brian and Crane were going to have

to say about this.

Guthrie sobered up instantly, at the stricken look on my face.

"It'll be okay, Har."

"No, it won't," I said, with certainty.

Up the hall, Mrs. Wilson opened the office door, and looked down the hallway.

"There you are," she said, sounding put out. "Mr. Best is waiting for you, Harlie."

"I'll see you at home," Guthrie said, giving me a sympathetic look.

"Yeah," I said glumly. "If you can't find me, check the backyard. They might have killed me and buried me there."

7


	7. Catfish and Carrots

When I went past Mrs. Wilson's desk, she frowned at me.

"Go on back in, Harlie," she told me. "Mr. Best is waiting for you."

I nodded, and opened the door to Mr. Best's office.

I must have been in the bathroom longer than I'd thought, because Adam and Crane

were both sitting there, in chairs across from Mr. Best's desk. I didn't see how they'd

had time to make it here already.

I didn't have to do more than a quick glance at their faces to see that they both

looked pretty fierce.

"Sit here, Harlie," Mr. Best told me, putting me in the unfortunate seat beside his desk,

where I had a clear view of both Adam and Crane.

"Are you feeling better?" Mr. Best asked me.

I wasn't, particularly, but I nodded anyway.

"You're awfully pale," Crane said.

I looked at him again, and decided he looked more worried than mad.

"I'm alright, Crane," I said.

Crane nodded, and then said gravely, "What happened today, Harlie?"

"Didn't Mr. Best already tell you?" I asked.

"Harlie," Adam said, sounding stern.

I sighed. I hadn't meant to sound so surly.

"I lost my temper," I admitted. "But I tried to talk to her. She wouldn't listen."

"Never mind. We'll talk about it at home," Crane said.

After a few more minutes, which consisted of me just sitting there, while the three of them

chatted, and we waited for teachers to gather up my homework for the next two days and bring

it to the office.

I risked a look at Adam once, and he was watching me, his face looking thoughtful and considering.

I had a pretty fair idea of what he was considering, and I squirmed in my chair.

Finally, there was a tap at the door, and Mrs. Wilson opened it, handing Mr. Best a folder of homework.

Mr. Best, in turn handed it to me.

"I hope things start looking better to you, Harlie," he said kindly.

I knew that wasn't likely, considering the amount of trouble I was in, but I answered him

with a nod.

The Jeep was parked out front of the school, and I climbed in, sinking down in the back seat.

"You haven't had lunch yet, have you?" Adam asked, as he was about to get in.

I'd been in the office when lunch came around, so I shook my head.

"No. But that's okay. I'm not hungry."

"Going without eating isn't an option for you. Remember?" he said, sounding angry.

"Kind of hard not to remember that I have diabetes," I muttered, and Adam glared at me.

"Zip the smart mouth," Crane said.

I sighed, slumping down in my seat. I couldn't seem to say anything right at all.

They both got in, and we drove in silence for awhile, back to Murphys, where Adam pulled

into the bank parking lot.

He and Crane got out, and Adam reached into his pocket, pulling out a five dollar bill, and

holding it out to me. "Go over to the diner and get a hamburger or a sandwich," he told me.

"I can wait till I get home to eat," I said.

"Harlie, damn it," Adam said, "Do as you're told."

I stared at him for a minute, and then took the money from his hand.

"Okay," I muttered, and climbed out.

"And no pie, or anything like that," he said, as he walked towards the bank entrance with

Crane. "Get real food."

"I know what I'm supposed to eat," I said, crossly. "I'm not an imbecile."

They both stopped, and turned around to look at me, and I knew I'd pushed the envelope too far.

"Harlie-" Adam began, but Crane put a hand on his shoulder.

"I've got it," he said. "Go on in. I'll meet you inside in a minute."

Adam nodded, looking grim, and walked away. Crane walked slowly back over to

where I stood. Any relief I might have felt at it being Crane approaching me and not Adam,

disappeared when Crane was standing in front of me. I'd never seen him look so mad before.

"I've never heard as many smart ass and hateful comments before as I have from you in the last week," he said.

"Well, it's been an awful week!" I said, in my own defense.

"I know it has been. And that sucks. It's not fair. But that's no excuse for turning into a brat, and

snapping at people every time you open your mouth. Especially people who just want to help you."

I started to say something, but then fell silent, my throat hurting.

"And now you're running your mouth at school, sassing the teachers, and not doing your

homework."

"It was one assignment, Crane!" I protested. "One lousy assignment that I didn't do, and one

bad test grade! And maybe I did sass Miss George, but I tried to talk to her, and she wouldn't listen!"

"Sounds to me like just a bunch of excuses," Crane said.

"Maybe to you it sounds that way," I said curtly.

Crane raised an eyebrow at that comment, and then his jaw tightened.

"Alright, Harlie," he said, sounding grim. "That's it."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

Crane didn't answer right away. He put a hand on my shoulder, and then sort of looked around,

like he was thinking about something.

"Come on," he said, propelling me in front of him, around to the side of the bank building, and then

behind it, where the trash dumpster sits.

When we stopped walking, I would have pulled away, but his hand was too tight on my shoulder.

"Why are we back here?" I asked. Instead of answering that, Crane said,

"I'm disappointed in you, Harlie, I really am."

"I know! I'm a big, giant disappointment to everybody!" I felt like crying.

"That's not what I said. I said I was disappointed in you."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"No. It's not," he said.

He looked down at me, and shook his head slightly.

"I don't think trying to talk to you is doing any good right now."

"Then maybe nobody should try talking to me," I said.

"Maybe not," he said quietly. Then before I realized what was happening, he picked me up off the ground,

one arm around my waist, and started landing smacks on my behind.

I was so stunned that at first I didn't react, but then I did, pretty quickly, because it

hurt! I tried wiggling away, but that was useless, because his hold was too strong.

I hollered, and then I cried. He kept going, even when I started crying.

When he finally stopped, he set me on my feet, but kept his arm around my waist.

"Will talking work now, do you think?" he asked. "Or should I keep on?"

"Talking," I said, thru my tears, and he turned me loose. I looked up at him, feeling

stunned, and hurt, and angry, all at the same time.

"You still have that five from Adam?" he asked.

I managed a nod, my fingers closing around the money in my jeans pocket.

"Alright. Get yourself under control and then go get your sandwich. You can come in the bank when

you're done, or wait in the Jeep for us. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, still crying.

He paused, and said, "You're alright."

I nodded, rubbing at my wet cheeks. "Yeah. But-"

"But, what?"

"You've never done that before."

"No. Well, not since you were real little, anyway. I hope it helps."

He regarded me seriously, and said, "Go on and get your lunch," and went back around to the front of the bank.

I stood there a few minutes, leaning against the bricks of the building. My behind was stinging, and

I cried for a few more minutes, and then went across the street to the diner.

Marie called out a greeting to me as I went into the diner, and I waved at her, heading to the restroom

at the back. I splashed cold water on my face, and patted it dry with a paper towel. Looking in the mirror,

I decided I looked pretty awful. My hair was all frizzy, and coming loose from my braid, and my

eyes were all red.

I went back out, looking for an empty booth. There were several since the lunch crowd had thinned out,

and I chose one near the back, sitting down a little gingerly.

"Hello, honey girl!" Marie said, when she came over to me.

"Hi, Marie."

"What are you doing out of school at this time of day?"

I hesitated. "I got suspended," I admitted.

I guess you'd have to say that Marie is the closest thing I have to a grandma. She's known me

most of my life, and has always been really nice to me, and interested in my life. At Christmas time

last year, she gave both Guthrie and I twenty dollars.

"Well," she said. "It sounds like it's been quite a day then."

"Yeah."

"You need something to eat?" she asked.

"Yeah. Maybe a ham sandwich?"

"How about some catfish? I have some, Noah Brintnall caught it fresh this morning."

"That sounds good."

"Alright. Coming right up."

While I waited, I fiddled with a napkin, folding and refolding it, thinking. I wasn't sure what all

I was feeling. I was a little bit mad at Crane, but yet, not really, and I felt worried about my grades,

and still had all the pent up anger I'd been feeling all week.

Marie brought me my plate, two pieces of golden catfish, some carrots, and a roll.

"It looks good, Marie. Thanks."

"Want some company whilest you eat?" she asked.

"Sure."

"Let me get my coffee," she said. When she came back, carrying a big mug of steaming coffee, she

sat down across from me.

"First off, how is Hannah?" she asked. "That naughty girl hasn't called me in over two weeks."

"She's doing good. It's getting close now for the baby."

"December, right?"

"Yeah. Middle of the month, they think."

"She have everything ready?"

"She has a lot of stuff. I think some ladies from church are having a baby shower for her

soon."

"I'll look forward to that. Does Adam say whether he wants a boy or girl?"

"He says he doesn't care."

"What're you and Guthrie hopin' for?"

"Guthrie says a boy. I really don't care, either. As long as everything goes alright."

Marie patted my hand. "All will be well. Now, what's this about you getting suspended?"

"I had words with Miss George. I lost my temper, and mouthed off."

"Kay George? She the math teacher?"

"Yeah."

"It's not like you to get into trouble at school, young'un."

"I know." I sighed. "I don't feel like myself at all now."

"Well, finding out that you have diabetes can work on a person's mind."

"You know about it?" I asked.

"Brian was in here one morning this week. He told me."

"Oh."

"He seemed pretty shook up about it."

"Brian?" I asked surprised.

"Well, he's tall, and has dark hair, and has a little wife named Clare, so yeah, I'm pretty

sure it was Brian," she teased.

"Did he tell you I've been a big pain to the whole family lately?"

Marie smiled. "No, he didn't mention that. He did say you were taking it hard."

"How else can a person take news like that, but hard?"

I thought for a moment that I'd sounded rude, and I looked at Marie apologetically.

"Sorry, Marie. I didn't mean to sound rude."

"That's okay, honey. You can let off steam with me if you need to. Right now, though, I

want you to clean that plate. I'll just sit here and chatter at you while you eat. You can nod

now and again."

So, while I ate my lunch, Marie chatted with me, getting up a couple of times to go

wait on other customers.

When she sat back down, she sighed. "I'll be glad to get off my feet tonight," she said.

She eyed my near empty plate with approval. "Good girl," she said. "How are you

gettin' home?"

"Adam and Crane are over at the bank. I'm supposed to go over there when I'm done."

"Let's sit here and visit. They'll come find you here when they're ready."

"They're really mad at me," I said, without thinking.

Marie regarded me over the top of her glasses. "I imagine so. They'll get over it."

"I don't know. I've been pretty hateful lately. To everybody. Well, not to Guthrie, but

to everybody else."

"Those boys will forgive you anything, kitten. Hannah, too."

I shrugged, and Marie said, "Why are you treating them all so poorly?"

"I just feel so mad inside. I haven't had a very good filter on my mouth lately. But, Crane-"

I stopped, and Marie looked at me questioningly. "Crane, what?"

I felt my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Crane made it plain I need to cool it."

"He gave your backside a good paddling, huh?"

"Yeah."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, Marie sipping her coffee.

"So, you're feelin' put out with Crane now, just because he warmed your fanny?"

"I'm not really mad at him, I just wish everybody would leave me alone sometimes. At least until

I figure things out."

"Well, that's not the way a family works, honey girl. Least ways, not the McFaddens."

"I know."

I saw Adam and Crane crossing the street to the diner.

"Here they come." I started to stand up, but Marie waved me back down.

"Just relax. They can come and have a sit-down since they're coming this way."

I sat back down, and Marie turned to greet Adam and Crane when they walked in.

"Hello, boys!" she said, with a big smile. She stood up, and pulled them both down close

so she could kiss their cheeks.

"Hello, Marie," Adam said.

"Hello, pretty lady," Crane said, and Marie patted his face.

"What kind of pie will you boys have?" she asked.

"We need to be gettin' on home," Adam said.

"Nonsense. You have time for a bite of pie. Cherry, apple, peach? Name your poison."

Adam smiled, looking tired. "Cherry."

Marie turned to Crane. "What about you, tall man?"

"You have any of your blackberry cobbler back there?" Crane asked.

Marie beamed. "I think I might. Let me check."

She bustled away, and Adam sat down beside me, while Crane took the spot Marie had

been occupying. Marie came back over, carrying a cup of coffee in each hand.

"There you go," she said, setting them down. "That'll get you started." She hurried back towards

the kitchen again.

"How was your lunch?" Crane asked me.

"Good. Catfish. And carrots."

"Sounds good."

There was silence then, and Adam absentmindedly moved the salt shaker back and forth across

the table, from hand to hand.

"I guess Noah Brintnall brought some fresh catfish in to Marie," I volunteered, making an attempt at conversation.

"Oh, yeah?" Crane asked.

"Yeah." I risked a look at Adam. He looked tired. And lost in thought. I wondered if

something had gone wrong at the bank. I realized that I hadn't thought about anybody else's

problems in a while.

"I'm sorry about today," I said quietly. "I shouldn't have said the things I did to Miss George."

"Just what exactly did you say, anyway?" Adam asked.

"I was asking her if there was any way I could bring up my grade, and she said that my grade

is because I haven't put out any effort. I told her that wasn't true, and she told me to go to

the office. I told her it wouldn't hurt for her to give kids a break sometimes. And I said she only

cares about algebra."

"Hmmm," Adam said.

"And I told her to go see Frieda at the Hair Hut."

When they both looked at me, puzzled, I said, in explanation, "To get her eyebrows plucked."

Adam choked on his coffee.

"You didn't," he said.

"Well, yeah. I did."

"Harlie Marie."

I couldn't tell what he was thinking. He didn't really sound angry.

I met Crane's eyes across the table, and I felt my face flush hotly.

"I've been a brat lately," I said quietly.

"No argument there," Adam said.

"I'll do better," I said.

Crane smiled at me, his eyes kind.

"Give us all a chance, Harlie," he said. "This is hard for all of us, too, watching you

go thru this."

"It's new to all of us," Adam said.

"Has there ever been anybody in the family with diabetes?" I asked. "Like Daddy's parents?"

"Not that I know of," Adam said. "I don't remember Mom or Dad ever talking about it."

Marie came back, then, bringing the pie and cobbler to Adam and Crane.

"Do you need anything else?" she asked me.

"No. Thanks, Marie."

They all talked, while Crane and Adam ate their dessert, and drank more coffee.

I sat quietly, drinking my water, and thinking. For some reason, Evan was on my mind. I'd been

really mean to him lately, and for no good reason. If he hadn't said something, I might have gone

on feeling bad for a long time, and it could have affected my eyesight, or caused a problem with

my kidneys. He'd made the right decision. The adult decision. And I'd acted like an absolute infant.

"Hey," Adam said, giving me a nudge.

"Huh?"

"I said, let's go."

"Okay." I slid out of the booth after him.

Marie followed us outside, giving us all hugs. I pulled the five dollar bill out of my jeans, and

offered it to her, but she waved her hand.

"The McFaddens eat for free today," she said.

"Naw," Adam said, and I saw him tuck a ten into her apron pocket.

"That's too much," she protested.

"For your famous pie? That's not nearly enough," Adam said.

"Still the charmer," Marie said, patting Adam's face fondly.

She waved us off, and we started for home. I leaned back in the seat a little. I was sort of tired. And

I knew I shouldn't be, but I was kind of relieved that I didn't have to face school tomorrow. I resolved

to do all my homework that was in the folder, and then do extra English work. Maybe I could go for a

ride on Petra, too. It would be nice to get out in the sunshine and fresh air. If I wasn't grounded.

I leaned forward a little.

"If I get all my homework done, will I be able to go for a ride tomorrow sometime?"

Adam looked at me in the rear view mirror. Then he and Crane exchanged a glance.

"What do you think, Crane?" Adam asked.

"Alright with me, if it's alright with you," Crane said.

Adam met my eyes in the mirror again. "I guess so, then."

"Thank you," I said.

"We will be talking some more about you being suspended, though," he said.

I nodded, leaning back again, and trying not to think about that. Instead, I thought

as hard as I could about freedom upon Petra's back.

I could already feel Petra beneath me, soaring across the pastures. I could

already feel the wind in my hair.

7


	8. Salad and Sun Tea

When we got home, there was a lot going on. Doc G was in the paddock by the barn, and Brian was

with him. One of the horses, Duke, which is technically Ford's horse, was there, Brian holding his lead rope.

Duke had a bandage around one fetlock. It looked like Brian and Doc G were just talking now.

"Is Duke hurt?" I asked.

"He got into some barb wire," Adam said, parking the Jeep, and shutting off the ignition.

"Where?"

"We don't know for sure," Adam said.

Since my brothers are meticulous about fences and keeping wire picked up, something like this is

an uncommon occurrence on our ranch.

I climbed out after Adam and Crane, carrying my backpack.

"I can change and help check the fences," I offered.

"Hannah had a headache earlier. Maybe you should see if she needs any help in the house first," Adam told me.

"Okay."

I went inside. The house was quiet. I checked the kitchen, but there was no sign of Hannah. I went

upstairs, and changed my clothes. Then I went down the hall to Hannah and Adam's open bedroom door.

Hannah was laying on the bed, and it looked like she was sleeping. I went closer, being careful to be

quiet. She opened her eyes and looked at me.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi. Did I wake you?"

"No. I'm just resting for a few minutes," she said.

"Adam said you have a headache."

"Just a little one. It's better now. Did you eat lunch?"

"Yes. Marie had catfish."

"Okay. Good." She closed her eyes.

I felt a stab of worry. Something seemed off with Hannah.

"Do you want some tea?" I asked.

"Maybe later. I think I'll just lie here a little longer."

"Okay. Do you want me to do some laundry? And figure something out for supper?"

Hannah opened her eyes again. "That would be great."

"Okay." I went to the chest of drawers, and pulled out a blanket, carrying it over,

and covering Hannah with it.

"Thanks, sweetie."

"You're welcome. I'll close the door so it stays quiet for you."

"Are you suspended for more than today?" she asked.

"Tomorrow, too."

"We'll have a talk about it later, alright?"

"Okay."

I went out, shutting the door behind me. When I went downstairs to the basement, I started

a load of laundry in each of the washers, and folded towels from the dryer. I carried the towels

upstairs to put them away in the hall closet by the bathroom, and then went down to the kitchen.

I tried to think of what to fix for supper. Cooking isn't really one of my favorite things, although

I like to bake. Or at least I used to. I didn't know how much fun that would be now, since I'm not

supposed to eat a lot of sweets, so I wouldn't be able to enjoy what I'd baked.

I decided on pork chops and mashed potatoes, one of Guthrie's favorite meals, even though we'd

already had it earlier in the week.

I made some sun tea and put it out on the back step, so it would be ready by supper. Evan

loves sun tea.

I got the pork chops out of the freezer and put them in the sink to thaw. I peeled the potatoes, and left them on the kitchen counter, ready to start them boiling later. I fixed a salad, and put it into the refrigerator.

I checked my blood sugar level. I still had a hard time doing it, but I thought I did better

than I had been doing.

I took an apple from the fruit bowl on the table, and went to put on my jacket, going outside.

I wanted to check on the puppies, especially Warrior.

When I went into the barn, munching on my apple, the puppies were scampering and playing. Warrior was doing well

enough that he was able to join into their fun. I picked him up, pressing my face into his fur.

I turned when I heard someone come into the barn, and watched Adam as he went to sort

thru the tools that are kept on the shelves against the back wall. He was muttering to himself, and tossing

the tools in and out of the shelf.

I carried Warrior over to stand beside him.

"Hey," he said, after a couple of minutes. "I didn't see you standing there. How's Hannah?" he asked,

looking at me.

"She's taking a nap. She said her headache was better."

"Okay. Good."

"I have supper ready to start cooking. I'll do that after awhile."

"Okay." He picked up some wire cutters, and stood there, not saying anything, just looking at

me. There was something in the way he looked at me, that made me ashamed of myself.

"I meant it about wanting to do better, Adam," I said, really softly.

"Then show me," he said, sounding stern.

"I will. I promise."

"What do you think you can do about Miss George?" he asked.

I looked at him, puzzled.

"You have to be in her class the rest of the school year. You need to be able to get along. How

about making her an apology?"

I wanted to say that I shouldn't have to apologize. I wanted to say that Miss George had

started it, that she'd been in the wrong, too. I wanted to say that she should have to apologize

for making that comment about my lack of effort. I wanted to say that no way was I going to

say I was sorry to her.

But I didn't say any of that. I was too afraid to. I bit my lip hard.

"Okay," I said grudgingly. Miss George was going to love this. She'd probably make me grovel, and

not accept a simple apology.

"Good," Adam said.

"What if she says she won't accept it? What if she says I should never have said anything to her

at all?"

"Well, then, that's on her. At least you will have done the right thing, and tried."

"Okay," I said, still reluctant.

"Crane told me what happened."

"Oh," I said, feeling embarrassed.

"If he hadn't paddled you, I probably would have. You know that, right?"

"I guess so." I kind of pressed myself against the barn wall, feeling a little intimidated. Adam looked like

he was set in for a good, long lecture.

"It's time to straighten up. If you need help dealing with everything, then all you have to

do is ask. You have a houseful of people you can go to, for advice and support,

or a listening ear. Behaving like a brat isn't going to

get you anything but trouble. And a tanned behind."

I swallowed, and chewed at my lip again.

"The next time I hear you, or hear about you, being sassy and disrespectful to anybody

here at home, or anywhere else, you and I are going to have a serious problem. And you won't like

how I resolve it. Understood?"

I nodded, and he said sternly, "Answer me, Harlie."

"Understood," I managed, feeling like I was going to start crying again.

"Okay. Good."

I swiped at a tear at the corner of my eye.

"There's not one of us that wouldn't take it on ourselves for you, if we could."

I nodded in acknowledgement of that. "I know."

Adam's face softened a little. He reached out to twirl one of my curls around his finger.

"I don't know why this happened to you, sugar. I wish to hell it hadn't. We won't ever have

the answer to why it did."

"I know," I said again.

"Is there anything you want to talk to me about right now?"

"No. Not really."

"Okay." He dropped his hand from my hair.

I said suddenly, "Well, there's one thing."

"What?"

I tightened my hold around Warrior, and he made a protesting sound.

"I know we have to find homes for the puppies. But this one, can I keep him, please, Adam? I

know you shouldn't let me, with the way I've been acting, and getting suspended and everything. But

if you let me, I'll find a way to help pay for everything he needs-"

"Take a breath, Harlie," Adam said, and I stopped talking.

"You're right. I probably shouldn't let you keep him," he said slowly, and I felt my heart

drop to my feet. I couldn't give up my dog, I just couldn't! He meant so much to me.

"On the other hand," Adam said, reaching out to rub Warrior's head, "I've never really

been good at not doing what I shouldn't. So, okay."

"Okay? You mean I can?" I asked, and Adam smiled a little.

"Yeah. You can."

"Thanks, Adam," I said, giving him a genuine full smile.

From the distance, we could hear Brian yelling for Adam.

"I better go see what our bellowing brother needs," Adam said.

"Okay. I'll go in and make sure the pork chops are defrosted."

When I went into the house, I felt better for some reason. Obviously, part of it was because

I knew I could keep Warrior. But it was more than that. I mean, being threatened with

bodily harm should leave me feeling pretty rotten, but I felt lighter than I had for the last

several days. As I went up to check on Hannah, I thought maybe it had something to do

with being busy, and helping other people out. It helped keep me from thinking about

my own misery so much.

Hannah was still sleeping, when I opened the door quietly and stuck my head in. I shut the

door again, and went down to the kitchen. I put the still-frozen pork chops in the microwave,

and put the potatoes on to boil. After I'd started the pork chops frying, I went to get my homework

out of my backpack, and spread it out over the kitchen table. I struggled with my math for a few

minutes, and almost gave it up, to wait for Crane to help me with it. But I wasn't sure I

wanted to ask Crane for any favors right away. I was still feeling embarrassed about what

had happened behind the bank.

So I muddled on with my math, doing the best I could, and getting up occasionally to

turn the pork chops.

I was done with math, and working on my English worksheets by the time the potatoes

were ready to mash. I was busy mashing them, adding generous amounts of butter, and salt, when

the family started drifting into the kitchen.

I went to gather up my homework from the table, and started setting out plates and

glasses, and put the big pitcher of iced sun tea in the center of the table.

Guthrie came over to investigate the food on the stove.

"Wow, Har," he said, "it really smells great!"

"I hope it tastes alright, too," I said.

"You okay?" he asked me, in a low tone, nodding towards Adam.

"They're pretty mad, but yeah, I'm okay."

"Think you can help me with my English vocab worksheet?" he asked me, sticking

his finger into the mashed potatoes, and then licking it off.

"Yeah, sure," I said.

"Cool. I have something to tell you," he said, reaching for another swipe of potatoes.

"Guthrie, stop putting your hands in the food," Brian told him, coming over by the

stove. "Act like you have some manners."

Guthrie licked his finger clean of potatoes, and said, "Gee, Brian, it's been my life's desire to

be just like you. If I start acting like I have manners-well, then, that'd be

nothing like you at all."

"Come over here, you little comedian," Brian said, grabbing for Guthrie.

Guthrie scuttled to the opposite side of the table, out of Brian's reach.

"Ah, ah, ah!" he said, shaking a finger at Brian. "No roughhousing in the kitchen!"

I smiled at their antics, and turned to look at Evan, who was laughing, too.

"Hi, Evan," I said quietly.

"Hi, Har," he said, looking a little surprised at my greeting.

"I made you some sun tea," I told him.

"Thanks," he said, with a slight smile.

"Yeah, Evan, want that I should sweeten it up for ya?" Guthrie asked him. "I can

stick my fingers in there, too, and swish it around. It'll be all kinds of sweet then."

"You just keep your overgrown mitts out of my tea," Evan warned him.

I giggled a little, and went to take the pork chops off the stove and put them

on a platter. I was spooning up the potatoes when Hannah came into the kitchen

with Adam.

"You feelin' okay?" Guthrie asked her, and Hannah patted his cheek.

"I'm fine, Guth."

Hannah surveyed all the food on the table, and sat down in her chair, with a smile

for me. "This is wonderful, sweetie," she said. "I really appreciate all your help."

"You're welcome," I said.

By now, everybody had taken their seats, and I went to the refrigerator to

get out the salad, reaching around Guthrie and Brian to set the big salad bowl in

the center of the table.

Hannah looked down towards Adam's end of the table, and said, proudly,

"Harlie did all this so that I could take a nap this afternoon."

"That's real good," Adam said.

"Definitely appreciated," Crane said, from his seat across the table.

"Yeah, peach, you put all that extra time you had this afternoon to good use," Brian

said, dryly, his eyebrows raised at me.

I felt myself flush with embarrassment, at his reference to my suspension from school. I slid

into my chair between Guthrie and Hannah, and was relieved when the conversation detoured

away from me, and instead turned to Duke, and where he might have gotten cut by barb wire.

I didn't eat a lot, but I did manage to eat some of everything. When everybody was done

eating, I got up and started clearing the table, and stacking the dishes on the counter.

Brian looked at the dishwashing chart on the refrigerator, marked with whose turn it

is to do the dishes every night.

"It's not your turn," he told me. "Guthrie's up tonight."

"I know. But I owe Guthrie," I said.

Guthrie looked up from where he was finishing up the last helping of mashed potatoes.

"Hey, thanks a lot, Har," he said. "I can get my homework done and have a chance

to call Kristin."

"When are we going to get to see her again?" Hannah asked him.

"She's comin' over Saturday," Guthrie said.

"Good," Hannah said.

I started running hot water into the sink, and poured in a generous amount of

dish soap. Hannah came up and gave me a hug from behind.

"Thank you again, sweetie."

"It's okay. I started two loads of laundry, but I didn't get them put into the dryer yet."

"I'll go down and stick them in the dryer," Evan offered.

"Thanks, Evan," Hannah said, patting his arm. "I'm going to get spoiled by

all these willing helpers around here."

"Come on," Adam said, taking her by the hand. "Go sit on the couch and I'll

massage your feet for you."

"Sweeter words were never spoken by any man," Hannah said, and smiled at

me as she followed Adam out of the kitchen.

I washed the dishes, and rinsed them, my thoughts jumbled. I was really tired. It

had been a long day. I turned to look at Evan, at the sound of his footsteps coming up the

basement stairs.

He got a glass out of the cabinet, and then went to the refrigerator, pouring himself

a glass of orange juice. He started to go towards the living room with it. He hadn't said

anything, but I guess I didn't really blame him for that. I hadn't been very approachable

lately. Or nice.

"Hey, Evan?" I said quietly, and he turned back to look at me.

"Yeah?"

I turned around to lean against the sink, twisting the dish towel in my hands.

"I understand why you told about me feeling dizzy. Something bad could have happened

while I was driving. I knew all along why you did it. But I was just being stubborn,

and stupid."

Evan was watching me with a thoughtful look on his face, but there was still

a little bit of hesitation in that look, too.

"I know I shouldn't have told you not to tell. I put you in a really bad position.

I'm sorry," I said.

It was, for me, a really long apology.

"Well, thanks for tellin' me that," he said.

"Will you forgive me?" I asked him, and even to my own ears my voice sounded

kind of plaintive. I mean, I like Evan. He's lots of fun, and he's almost always nice

to me. We used to not be good friends like we are now, and I didn't want to go back

to that.

Evan came closer to me. "Sure, I do."

I let out a breath of relief that I hadn't known I was holding in.

"Even though I'm a giant pain?" I asked him, feeling tears prick at my eyes. I was so, so

tired of crying at the drop of a hat!

Evan took another couple of steps until he was standing directly in front of me.

"It really shook me up, Harlie. I mean, it scared the hell out of me, seeing you

like you were last Sunday."

"It was scary to me, too," I agreed.

"I know."

We stood there quietly for a couple of moments, just looking at each other.

"Well, you're the only little sister I have," he said. "So I guess that means I have

to forgive you, huh?" He kind of smiled at me.

I smiled back a little, and nodded. "I guess that's what it means, alright," I said.

7


	9. No misunderstandings

After I was done with the dishes, I picked up all my homework papers and books that

I'd stacked on a kitchen counter, and headed thru the living room.

Everybody was sprawled around the room, except for Guthrie, who was sitting on

the bottom stair, talking on the phone.

"Are you doing alright?" Hannah asked.

"Yeah. Fine," I said.

"Want to sit here with us?" she offered.

"I have a lot of homework to do. I think I'll just go up to my room."

"Did you check your blood sugar?" Clare asked.

"This afternoon, I did. I forgot to do it before supper."

"What was it when you checked it?"

I told her, and Clare nodded. "Okay. You want me to do your shot tonight?"

I nodded, and Brian looked at me with a half-smile.

"Don't forget to close your eyes, and jab her real hard, Clare," he said.

I smiled a little at that, and shook my head at him.

"Okay. I'll be up after awhile," Clare said.

Guthrie got off the phone and came over towards me.

"Kristin says she wants to hang out with you on Saturday when she comes

over."

"Okay," I said.

Evan was reading the Calaveras Chronicle newspaper. He looked over the top of it at

me and Guthrie, and said, "Hey, it says here there's been a rush on eyebrow plucking appointments

at Frieda's Hair Hut. It sounds like a major emergency situation."

Guthrie started laughing, and even Brian looked amused, but I shook my head

at Evan.

"I seriously cannot believe you said that to her, Harlie," Hannah said.

I gave Evan a "see what you did" kind of look.

"I shouldn't have," I said, looking at Hannah, and trying to appear remorseful.

"Of course you shouldn't have," Hannah said.

"Even though it's true?" Guthrie chimed in, a wicked twinkle in his eye.

"Even then, Guthrie James," Hannah said. "And that's enough out of you."

"I'm going to apologize to her on Monday," I said, and met Adam' eyes briefly.

"Well, that's good," Hannah said.

"Uh huh," I said, not enlightening Hannah or anyone else to the fact that it was Adam's idea, and

not mine, to do the apologizing.

I shifted my books in my arms. They were getting heavy, just standing there.

"Goodnight," I said, in a general way, to everybody.

There was a chorus of goodnights from Evan and Brian, Clare and Hannah.

"Night, sugar," Adam said.

"Hey," Guthrie said. "Will you still help me with my English?"

"Yeah. Come up when you're ready," I told him.

I started towards the stairs, passing by Crane, sitting at his desk. He was writing

in the ledgers, where he keeps all the ranch accounts. He seemed to be concentrating

on what he was writing, so I didn't say anything to him.

I had my foot on the bottom stair, when I glanced over at him, and he was looking

at me, his glasses in his hand, twirling them around.

"Night, Harlie," he said quietly.

"Night, Crane," I said.

I went on up to my room, taking off my boots, and going ahead and getting into my

favorite pajamas. They're blue, with little purple horses all over them. I've had them

for several years, and they're pretty fuzzy and worn, but I always feel better when

I'm wearing them.

I worked on my English for awhile, and then Guthrie came up, and tossed his

English worksheet at me. He preceded to take all the pillows off my bed, throwing

them on the floor, and plopping down on them, laying with his arms folded under his head.

"Hey," I protested. "This is your homework, mister. Get up here."

"Ask me questions, I'll answer 'em, then you write 'em down," he said.

"You're impossible," I said, but I smiled at him, getting a killer Guthrie-grin

in return.

After we'd done the worksheet, I tossed it down towards him on the floor.

"There you go. My bill will be in the mail," I told him.

"Ha! Get in line, if you're waiting for money," he said.

"Guess what? Adam says I can keep Warrior."

"That's great," Guthrie said, and I could tell he really meant it.

"He can be your dog, too," I offered. "I mean, you're the one who saved his life."

"That's okay. Gus would be jealous if he thought I'd replaced him."

"You know Gus really only considers Ford to be his person," I reminded him.

"So, you want to go to the movies Saturday night with Kristin and me and Tony?" Guthrie asked,

in a quick change of subject.

"Yeah. Maybe. If he asks me."

"He asked me to ask you."

"That's dumb, Guthrie."

"Well, he knows you're going thru a lot, and that you've been busy-" Guthrie's voice

trailed off, and he looked at me apologetically.

"He really wants you to go," Guthrie said.

"Okay. It sounds fun. If Adam and Crane will let me go. Since I'm suspended."

"Did they say you're grounded?"

"Nooo, not exactly," I said.

"There you go, then."

"Are you two finished?" Clare asked, standing in the open doorway.

"Oh, man, the nurse has arrived. I'm outta here," Guthrie said, picking up his

English paper, and getting to his feet.

"Yeah, go," Clare told him. "Before I find a shot to give you that will repress

orneriness."

"Ha! Goodnight," Guthrie said.

"Night, Guth," I said.

After Clare gave me my shot, and left, I went back to working on my English.

I was almost halfway thru it when there was a light knock on my door.

"Come in," I said.

The door opened and Crane stepped in, pausing at the doorway. He had a glass

of milk, and a package of crackers in his hands.

"Got your homework done?" he asked me.

"No, not all of it. I have a lot of English to do. I think I'll finish tomorrow, though. I'm

kind of tired."

"Good idea." He held up the milk and crackers. "Brought you up a snack."

"Okay." I pushed my English papers aside, and Crane handed me the glass.

"How goes the algebra?" he asked, setting the crackers beside me on the bed.

"I got it done earlier."

"No kidding?"

"Yeah. You want to see?" I offered.

"Sure."

I sorted thru my notebook, and found my algebra homework paper, and handed it

to him. While he looked over the math problems, I opened the crackers and started

munching on one, sipping on my milk in between bites.

"Just a couple of them are wrong," Crane said, after a few minutes, and I looked

at him in surprise, that I'd done that well.

"Are you kidding?" I asked.

"No. Recheck number eleven and number sixteen. Other than that, it looks good.

I'm impressed."

"Thanks," I said, as he laid the paper back down on top of my notebook. "I can't

believe it. I guess some of it must be soaking into my brain finally."

"It looks that way."

Crane got the chair from the corner of my room, and turned it around,

straddling it, and resting his arms on the back. "I actually came up for more than

to bring you a snack," he said. "I think we need to clear the air, Harlie. I don't want

there to be any misunderstandings between us."

"Okay," I said, looking at him tremulously.

"What happened today was the last resort on my part. Nothing seemed to

be getting thru to you-"

"I know," I said quietly.

"I want to help you, peanut, but I just don't know how."

"You do help me, Crane. In lots of way, all the time. I just have to

get my mind wrapped around this whole diabetes thing."

"If I could take it on myself for you, I would," he said.

I nodded, remembering that Adam had said the same thing. I knew

it was the truth, too.

"I know you would." I looked at him more closely, and I saw the sadness around

his eyes, and the strain on his face.

"I can't begin to imagine what it's like for you," he said. "But, Harlie, you've got

to be kind to people. Find an outlet for your anger and frustration. Taking it out

on other people, well, that's not the right thing."

I nodded again, picking at a fuzzy spot on my pajamas.

"I'll try, Crane," I said.

"Okay. You can talk to me, you know, anytime you want."

"I know."

"Alright. I'll let you get to bed," Crane said, starting to get up.

"Crane. Wait," I said, and he sat back down, looking at me expectantly.

"Report cards come out next week. I'm getting a D in algebra."

"Hmm." he said, looking serious.

"I've got to send this assignment with Guthrie tomorrow to turn in for me. That

might raise it a little, but she said it would still be a D."

"Have you been turning in all your homework?" he asked.

"Yeah. Except for that one this week. I didn't do well on a test, though. That

really brought it down."

"Okay," he said. "I guess you'll have to work on bringing it up, huh?"

I nodded, and he stood up, setting the chair back in the corner of the room.

"Done with your milk?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, and he took the empty glass from me.

He picked up the crackers and laid them on my nightstand. "I'll leave these in case you want some

later."

He motioned for me to get under the blankets, and when I had, he pulled them

up around me.

"Adam says I can keep Warrior," I said, looking up at him.

"That what you're going to call him?"

"Yes. You said it, remember? That he had the strength of a warrior. I thought

it seemed sort of a fitting name for him."

"That goes for you, too," he said.

"What?"

"To get thru everything and not let diabetes get the best of you, you'll need to have the strength of a warrior."

"I hope I can do it," I said, softly.

"No doubt in my mind that you can," he said.

"Can I give you a hug?" he asked. "Or are you still too mad at me?"

In answer, I sat up and held out my arms to him. He leaned down and hugged me

hard.

"I'm not mad at you, Crane," I said, in his ear.

He kissed the top of my head, and walked to the door, switching off the light.

"Night, peanut," he said.

"Goodnight."

7777777

I woke up early enough to take my corrected math homework down the hallway to Guthrie's

bedroom, and shake him awake.

"Huh? What?" he asked, sounding groggy.

"If I put this in your backpack, will you turn it in to Miss George first thing this morning?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, rolling back over.

"It's important, Guth. Please don't forget."

"Ummm."

I poked his side, in his most ticklish spot. "Guth!"

"Hey!" he protested. "Yes, I'll turn it in for ya."

"Okay. Thanks."

I went back to my room, and went back to sleep.

7

When I woke up again, it was after eight. I was, I realized with surprise,

actually hungry. I pulled on some worn jeans and a Scooby Doo t-shirt, brushed my hair,

and put it in a single braid, and went downstairs in my sock feet, carrying my boots.

I could hear laughter from the kitchen, and when I went in, Clare and Hannah

were sitting there talking at the table.

"Good morning, sweetie," Hannah greeted me.

"Morning," I said.

"You got some rest this morning," Clare said.

I nodded. "And I'm hungry, too."

"Fantastic," Hannah said. "Do you want some eggs, or what?"

"I'll just have some cereal and maybe toast," I told her.

"Check your level," Clare reminded me.

They both watched me as I did that, and Clare nodded in approval.

"You're getting to be a pro at it," she said.

I ate my cereal and toast, listening while they discussed the news in the

neighborhood. Mrs. Nelson, who is a kindergarten teacher that lives a couple of

ranches over from us, had apparently just been told she was going to have twins.

"Maybe next time you'll have twins," I told Hannah, and she laughed.

"Let me just have this baby first, before we talk about any twins," she said.

"What twins?" Adam's voice said, and we all turned to see him and Brian walk

in the back door.

"Harlie thinks we should have twins next," Hannah told him, and Adam

shook his head.

"I hope you've got plenty of time to babysit then," he told me.

"I've got to go or I'll be late for class," Clare sighed.

"I'll walk you out," Brian said, as Clare said goodbye to all of us.

Adam poured a cup of coffee, and sat down next to Hannah, taking her hand

and reaching over to kiss her.

"Today's the doctor appointment, right?" he asked her.

"Yes. At two."

"Okay. How about we leave around eleven, and I take you to lunch first?"

"That sounds wonderful," Hannah said, smiling at him.

With a quick change of subject, Hannah turned to me.

"Have you started thinking about what you want to do for your birthday?" she asked me.

I shook my head, my mouth full of toast. When I'd chewed, I said,

"No. I haven't really thought about it at all."

"Well, it's your sixteenth, after all. That's a special day."

I guess it comes from growing up in an all male household until I was 11, but I

don't really get all that girly girl stuff, like about turning sweet sixteen being a big deal.

If I was going to get a car or something for my birthday, then that would constitute

a huge deal. But I knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. My brothers had all

had jobs and helped to pay for their first vehicles. Besides, I had the feeling that now,

with the diabetes and everything, some certain brothers would be super over-protective about letting

me drive.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't really have anything in mind. Maybe a BBQ,

and Kristin and Lori over, or something. And Daniel and Ford home, for sure."

Adam nodded in approval, while Hannah looked at me, with a small smile, and

shook her head.

"What?" I asked her.

"Don't you want a party?" she asked. "Like with all the kids in your class, or something

like that?"

Adam looked alarmed. "ALL the kids in her class? All those teenagers? Here?"

"Yes, dear," Hannah said, patting his hand. "If that's what Harlie wants."

"No, I don't want anything like that," I said, and Adam breathed a visable

sigh of relief.

"But, sweetie, turning sixteen is something special to a girl," Hannah said.

"It's just a birthday," I said casually, and Hannah gave me a worried look.

"Okay," she agreed, sounding reluctant.

Brian came back in, and went to pour himself a fresh cup of coffee.

"The wind's brisk this morning," he said.

He and Adam started talking again about where Duke might have gotten into

the barb wire. One of the steers had shown up yesterday afternoon with the same

kind of cuts. They rehashed what fences they'd checked so far, and decided where

they should start at today.

"I'll take the East end with Evan," Adam said. "Maybe Crane can go North."

"Okay," Brian said, "I'll take a look near the South end." He finished off his coffee.

"How about you comin' along with me, peach?" he asked me. "We can cover more area

that way."

"Okay!" I agreed happily, getting up to put my bowl and spoon in the sink.

"All the way up there?" Hannah asked, her forehead wrinkling in concern.

"Sure. Why not?" Brian asked, looking at her in surprise. "We've got to check

the fences, sis."

"Oh, I know that," Hannah said. "I meant that I don't think Harlie should ride all

the way up there this morning."

I stopped in mid-step to stare at her. Meanwhile, Brian and Adam were giving

her equally puzzled expressions.

"How come, honey?" Adam was asking.

"Well, that would take most of the day, wouldn't it?" she asked. "Brian?"

Brian nodded. "Yeah. A good part of it, anyway."

I stepped closer, to stand at Brian's side.

"Well, she needs to rest. And she can't go without lunch-"

"I'll pack some food, and water," I interrupted her.

"What if you get to feeling badly, though?" Hannah went on, addressing herself

to me now. "And that's a long ride. You-"

"I've done it lots of times before," I said.

"Harlie," Adam said, "don't interrupt Hannah. She's just concerned."

I opened my mouth to argue, but one look at Adam's face changed my mind.

I bit back my arguments, and said quietly, "Sorry for interrupting you, Hannah."

Hannah regarded me, looking regretful.

"I'm not trying to keep you from doing anything, sweetie. I'm just worried."

"I know," I said, trying not to sound impatient or snappish. "But I'll be alright."

I looked at Brian for help and support, and when he didn't say anything right away,

I gave him a poke in his lower back to encourage him to speak up.

"We'll pack a lunch," Brian told Hannah. "I'll make sure she takes a break if she needs

it. I'll take good care of her, Hannah."

"I know you will, Brian. I didn't mean to sound as if you wouldn't," Hannah

said, giving Brian an apologetic smile.

"Hannah, I'll go crazy if I can't do normal things, things that I'm used

to doing," I said quietly, pleadingly.

"Alright," Hannah said, with a small sigh. "Start packing your lunch."

I gave her a quick hug around her neck from behind.

"I'll get the horses saddled up," Brian told me. "Meet me outside when you get

the food packed up."

"Okay!" I said, and got busy, making ham sandwiches, and packing apples and

a couple of bananas, and putting them all in a drawstring bag that I could hook over

my saddle horn.

"Here," Hannah said, handing me a few granola bars. "Squeeze these in there somewhere."

"Thanks, Hannah Banana," I said, and she smiled.

"I haven't heard that one in awhile," she said.

When Adam married Hannah and brought her home, I called her Hannah Banana

for the whole first year.

"I mean it, though, Harlie. If you get tired, you take time to rest. As much as you

want to continue doing normal things, you still have to be responsible about taking

care of yourself."

"Yes. I will. I promise," I said, in a rush.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're just saying that to shut me up?" Hannah asked.

7


	10. Feast of kings

It was a perfect morning to be out in the sunshine and fresh air, and on horseback,

which is one of my favorite things. We'd been riding for almost an hour, just keeping

an eye on the fence line, since Brian said he and Evan had already checked the closest

fences.

Thirty minutes or so later, we were getting into the area that hadn't been checked

over. Brian rode ahead, and told me to ride along the fence, and we would meet

up at a middle point, as he doubled back.

I rode Petra close, and real slowly, I kept an eye on the fence. At one point,

the fence was obscured by a cluster of brush. I got off of Petra, and started

moving the brush out of the way. When I saw that it was a thorn tree, I went to get my

gloves out of my saddle bag.

I yanked and pulled, until I had quite an impressive stack of brush to the side.

I was feeling pretty proud of myself. I was yanking harder on an especially

stubborn branch, and it popped up and scratched my cheek.

I put a gloved hand up to my face and it came away with blood on it.

"Oh, bat shit!" I muttered to myself.

I was still working at the last bit of branches when Brian came riding back

towards me.

He surveyed my pile of accumulated thorn branches.

"You've been busy," he said. "Did you see any holes or wire down?"

"No, not yet."

Watching me struggle with a stubborn branch, Brian came and took over,

pulling it out for me.

"Thanks," I said.

"Glad you remembered to wear your gloves," he said.

That's when he saw my bloody cheek.

"It got you, huh?" he said.

"Yeah. It's okay."

Brian tossed the last branch onto my pile, and went over to Sierra, reaching into

his saddle bags and pulling out the small first aid kit that he carries.

"Come over here," he said, and when I was standing in front of him, he used a piece

of gauze to clean my scratch with iodine, and then put some antibiotic cream on it.

He would have put a bandaid on it, too, but I held up a hand in protest.

"I don't need a bandaid, Bri."

"Okay."

He put the first aid kit back into his saddle bag.

"Guess we might as well ride on, see if we can spot anything further up." He

surveyed me. "Are you up for that?"

"Sure."

Brian looked at me a little closer. "Let's take a break for a few minutes."

I was tired, but I wasn't going to say so.

"I'm fine, don't take a break on my account," I said.

"Who says it's for you? I happen to be tired, myself."

"Oh, ho," I said. "Well, okay, then, I guess old men do need to take breaks

pretty often-"

Brian caught me around the neck with the crook of his arm.

"Old man, huh?" he demanded.

He squeezed until I was laughing, and I hollered, "I meant another old man!

Not you!"

"Say uncle," he ordered.

"Uncle! Uncle!" I said, between giggles.

"That's more like it," he said, letting me go. "Let's show a little respect, shall we?"

I grinned at him. "Sure. I should be respectful to an elderly person such as

yourself, right?"

Brian made to grab for me again, but I danced away a few steps out of his reach.

We left the horses ground tied, and sat down in the grass, eating a sandwich

apiece, and then an apple, too.

I leaned back, stretching my back, and then took a drink of water out of the

canteen. The horses exchanged a nose rub, and I looked up at the sky,

clouds floating by.

"Ford says there's nothing more beautiful than a California sky," I said.

"I sure agree with that," Brian said.

I pointed to a cloud directly above where we sat. "Look at that one. It looks like

a rabbit."

"Which one?" Brian asked.

"Right there," I pointed specifically.

"That one?"

"Yeah."

"It doesn't look like a rabbit. It looks like a boat," Brian said.

"A boat!" I scoffed. "There are the ears, right there. It's a rabbit."

"Nope. Maybe you need glasses," Brian said.

"Huh. I think I've read that the percentage of elderly men that needs glasses is

pretty high-" I began.

Brian made a dive for me, pushing me down, and tickling me until I was

laughing again. When he stopped, he laid down on his back, folding his arms

under his head, and closed his eyes.

"What do you think the baby is? A boy or a girl?" I asked him.

"Yep."

"What?"

"I think it's a boy, or a girl," he said, and I groaned.

"That's an old joke, Bri. Really, what do you think?"

"If I was taking bets, I'd have to go with a boy."

"I think so, too."

After a few minutes, I finished my apple, and tossed what was left to

Petra.

"Can I ask you something personal?" I asked him.

"You can ask. I don't promise to answer."

"Do you think you and Clare will have a baby sometime soon?"

Brian opened his eyes. "That is real personal."

"I'm not trying to be nosy or all up in your business or anything-"

"Oh, yeah, you are," he said dryly, and I smiled.

"Well, okay, yeah I am," I admitted.

"I don't think we will, not anytime real soon. Maybe when she's done with all her

nursing classes. I don't want her to not be able to finish when she's worked so hard."

I nodded. "She's going to be a great nurse."

"Yeah, she sure is."

"You know what else? You're going to be a great dad, whenever you do

have kids."

"Well, thank you, peach," Brian said.

"You're welcome."

Brian sat up. "Should we get going, or are you done soft soapin' me, yet?"

"I'm not trying to soft soap you. I meant it."

"I know you did. I'm just yanking your chain. And I do thank you for the compliment."

I stood up, dusting off the seat of my jeans.

"If you're done resting, old guy, let's get going. We're burnin' daylight," I said,

grinning at Brian.

7

Even though we rode further up, we didn't see anything wrong with the fences.

By the time we were heading back home, it was mid-afternoon.

When we came up to the paddock, there was a red Chevy dually truck in the driveway.

"Red's here!" I said, and then I exchanged a look with Brian.

If Red's truck was here, and he was supposed to be with Daniel, then it only

made sense that-

"Daniel's home!" I said, and felt like I couldn't breathe for a minute, I was so

excited.

"Looks that way," Brian said, with a smile. "Go on, I'll unsaddle Petra for you."

"Thanks, Brian!" I took a side leap off of Petra, and started running for the house.

I burst thru the front door, and Daniel, sitting between Crane and Guthrie on the couch,

looked up at me.

I started towards Daniel at about the same time as he got to his feet, and threw

myself at him, leaping up and wrapping my legs around his waist, and my arms around his neck.

"Hello, squirt," he said, against my ear.

"I didn't know you were coming," I said, breathlessly, as I slid to my feet.

"I didn't know myself until a couple of days ago. So I thought I'd just surprise

you all."

"You sure did that, alright," Evan said.

Daniel held me back a little, looking me over.

"You've lost weight," he said.

"Just a little."

"More than a little." He looked at Crane, and I didn't miss the unspoken exchange

between them.

"Soon I'll be down to a model's weight," I joked, wanting to relieve the tension in the

room.

"Where's Brian?" Daniel asked then.

"Unsaddling the horses."

"Wait until you see Hannah, Daniel," Guthrie piped up. "Wowzie!"

"You better watch it, little brother," Evan said.

"Yeah, Guthrie, don't you know not to mock a pregnant lady's weight?" Crane

said, with a smile.

I stepped away from Daniel, looking towards Red, who was sitting in the recliner,

eating a piece of apple pie.

"Hello, Red," I said.

"Hullo there, Miss Harlie," he said, standing long enough to give me a quick hug. He nodded

towards the scratch on my face.

"Been goin' a few rounds in the boxing ring?" he asked me.

"A few rounds with a thorn tree," I said. "The tree won."

"So what's for supper around here tonight?" Daniel asked.

Everybody sort of looked at everybody else.

"It's always a good night for pizza," Guthrie said, looking hopeful.

"Pizza and beer," Daniel agreed. "The feast of kings."

"I'll go pick Kristin up," Guthrie said.

"I'll call the pizza in, for five o'clock pickup," Evan said.

"How much beer do we have?" Daniel asked.

"I'll check," Crane said, and everybody started spreading. Crane to check the beer supply,

Evan to the phone, Guthrie to his truck, Red to the kitchen for more pie.

Daniel and I, left alone in the room, looked at each other. He took both my hands

in his, facing me.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm good. Fine."

"This is you and me here, squirt. Don't try to snow me. I'm wise to you, remember?"

"I remember," I said.

"So? How are you really doing, dealing with everything?"

"Not so good, I guess."

Daniel pulled me into a hug. "I'm so sorry," he said, and kissed the top of my head.

"How long can you stay?" I asked him.

"Oh, a week or so."

"My birthday's in two weeks, though," I reminded him.

"Oh, is that right? I knew I had it marked in black on my calendar for some reason."

I jabbed him in the ribs. "Ha ha. Funny. Will you be able to come home for my birthday, too?"

"Let's talk about that later, okay?" I could tell by the look on his face that he

probably couldn't, and just didn't want to say so right then.

"Alright," I said, deciding to drop it for the moment.

Brian came in then, and gathered Daniel up in a bear hug, complete with

a lot of back slapping.

It was a totally awesome evening. By the time Adam and Hannah got home, Evan

had gone to pick up the pizzas.

Hannah took one look at Daniel, and promptly burst into tears.

She assured everybody she was fine, that they were happy tears, and kissed

Daniel's face over and over.

Adam hugged Daniel hard. "Miss you around here, Dan'l," he said, dropping

back into the old nickname. When he pulled back, Adam's eyes were wet with

tears.

"Miss you, too, Dad," Daniel said, his own eyes glistening at Adam's emotion.

Adam didn't even tell Daniel not to call him Dad, like he usually does when

the boys call him that. He just said he needed a cup of coffee, and went off towards

the kitchen.

When Clare and Kristin got there, we were a complete unit, except for the

hole left by Ford not being there.

I suddenly missed Ford with a fierce longing. I couldn't figure out what

was wrong with me. I had Daniel on one side, and Kristin on the other side,

and everybody else around, all of us eating and laughing, and yet I missed

Ford's face.

Hannah caught my eye, and when Daniel and Crane and Red started

getting out their guitars and banjos, she came up to me, and squeezed

my arm. "I miss him, too," she whispered.

I ate one piece of pizza, and then I remembered I hadn't checked my blood

sugar level before I ate like I was supposed to.

I went to the kitchen, and got everything out to do it, and while I was

in the process, Daniel came into the kitchen.

"I wondered where you disappeared to," he said.

"In here to inflict pain on myself," I said, and Daniel gave me a raised

eyebrow look.

"Is it okay if I watch while you do it?" he asked. "Or would you rather I

don't?"

"I don't care. I'm getting used to people watching."

Daniel watched, asking questions.

"You have to do this a lot?" he asked.

"Too much. I'm supposed to do it before I eat, but I forgot."

Daniel winced as I pricked my finger.

"This is nothing compared to the shot I have to do every day," I told him.

When I was finished, Daniel took my hand in his, looking at my fingertips.

"Damn," he said.

"Good thing I'm not a guitar player, huh?" I said.

"Yeah. Good thing," he said.

We all stayed up late, listening to Daniel and Red play music. Kristin and

Guthrie went for a walk in the darkness. I was really tired, and even though I

tried, I guess I didn't do a very good job of hiding the fact.

"Tired?" Adam asked, giving me a nudge, as we sat on the seat by the fireplace.

"Yeah."

"Brian says you were a lot of help today."

"It was nice, getting out in the sun, and riding."

I leaned my head against his arm.

"Go on up to bed," he said.

"I don't want to miss being with everybody. I'll go up in a little bit."

"You're not gonna miss anything. Go on. Scoot."

"I have to do my shot first," I sighed.

"How about I give it a try tonight? You okay with that?"

"Yeah. It's okay."

"Go on up. I'll meet you up there."

"Okay."

I made my round of goodnights, giving Daniel an extra long hug.

I went into my bedroom, and got into my pajamas, edging my way around

the rollaway cot that was set up for Kristin to sleep on.

Adam came up, and gave me the shot, and I had to say that he did

a really good job. As well as Clare. Well, almost.

"I'm fed up with being tired when everybody else is having fun," I complained.

"It's not as bad as all that," he said mildly. "We're all going to be heading off

to bed soon. I'm going as soon as I put this stuff up."

"It still makes me mad," I said.

Adam flipped up my comforter. "Get under there," he said, not responding to

my bad mood.

I crawled under the blankets, and looked up at him.

"Will you sit with me a minute?" I asked.

"Sure," he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Can I be home-schooled?" I asked.

"You're funny."

"I mean it. I'm serious. I felt better today, being outside, and helping Hannah.

It keeps my mind off of stuff."

"And I understand that. But it's not realistic for you to be home-schooled."

"Why not?"

"Because we're not teachers. Because you need to be in school. Because not

going to school isn't going to change what's happened to you. Any and all of the

above reasons."

"I'd do all my work. We could go pick it up, and I'd just do it here at home. Crane's

a better math teacher than Miss George, anyway."

"It's not even an option, Harlie."

"I don't see why we can't at least discuss it."

"That's what we've been doing for the last couple of minutes. Discussing it.

And now we're done discussing it."

"That sucks."

Adam gave me one of his 'I mean business' looks.

"Do you remember that little talk we had yesterday in the barn?" he asked.

"I remember," I said.

"Well, that comment and the attitude are sure violating the promise you made me

to be respectful."

"Alright. I'm sorry."

"I don't know that you are. Maybe I should keep my end of the promise I

made you, and wallop your behind."

"I am sorry, Adam! I just can't seem to stop sometimes."

"The rules around here haven't changed, Harlie. No still means no."

"I know." I sighed. "Why don't you just shoot me now?"

"I don't think shooting you is the answer. But this was your one and only free

pass. Next time, I won't stop to talk. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Okay." He leaned down to kiss my forehead. "Goodnight."

"Night, Adam."

He switched on my lamp, and then paused in the doorway, switching off the

overhead light. "I'll tell Kristin to come up quiet," he said.

"K."

I didn't fall asleep immediately, though, even with how tired I was. I was still

awake when Kristin came upstairs, and into my room.

I rolled over to face her.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi. Did you have fun tonight?"

"Oh, yes! Your family is just the most special. I didn't know Crane could sing

like that."

"Yeah. You should hear Ford. He's really good, too."

"I'm so glad I'm here," she said.

"Me, too."

"Guthrie kissed me goodnight," she said, a radiant smile on her face.

I wrinkled my nose. "And this is unusual?" I asked, knowing full well that

it wasn't.

"Well, no," Kristin admitted, blushing a little. "But still, it seems sort of, well,

special, you know?"

"Yeah."

It's kind of different when your best friend is dating your brother. I try to be a good

friend, and listen, but it's kind of weird to hear stuff like this about your own brother. Still,

I'm really glad that Guthrie and Kristin are going out together, and it makes Kristin

even more a part of the family.

"I'm going to go get into my pajamas and brush my teeth," she said.

"Okay."

Kristin left the bedroom door open, and while I laid there, waiting for her to come

back from the bathroom, I heard voices coming from downstairs. Nothing unusual in

that, but these voices got steadily louder, then went quiet, then raised again.

I got up, and went to my doorway, to see Kristin standing there in the hallway, too,

looking worried as she listened.

"What's going on?" I whispered.

"It sounds like Daniel's upset. He's arguing with Crane, and Brian, and Evan, too."

"About what?"

Kristin looked stricken. "I think about you," she whispered.

"Me? Why?" I hissed.

Kristin shrugged, and shook her head.

I went to the top of the stairs, Kristin on my heels, and we looked over the

bannister, watching down below, as my brother's voices rose.

"All I'm saying is, somebody could have told me," Daniel was saying, sounding angry.

"I did tell you," Crane said quietly.

"Well, I know, but-" Daniel ran a hand across his face. "It's just such

a shock."

"She's doing alright," Brian said, his voice firm.

"She's not doing alright, Brian! She's tore up inside, anybody can see that!"

"Well, of course she is," Brian snapped. "And she's gonna be that way, probably

for a while yet. But eventually, she'll come to terms with it."

"She shouldn't have to come to terms with it, dammit!" Daniel swore.

I exchanged a look with Kristin, and feeling a little weak, I sat down on the top

stair, and she sat down beside me, squeezing my hand.

"I mean, what happened? Where did this come from?" Daniel insisted. "None of us have it."

"It just happens that way, sometimes," Crane said.

Crane laid a hand on Daniel's shoulder. "It's only been a few days, Dan'l. Now that

she's under a doctor's care, and she's taking her insulin, she'll start feeling better."

Evan, who'd been quiet up until now, said, "Harlie's tougher than you think, Daniel."

Daniel stepped so close to Evan that he was face to face with him.

"Don't try to tell me about Harlie, Evan," he said, in an angry voice. "I know

her as well as you do, better even, and I know how tough she is."

"You're not around here enough to know what's goin' on," Evan said, toe to toe

with Daniel. "You've got a lot of nerve comin' home and acting like somebody did

you wrong by not telling you everything."

"Well, maybe if I had been around, she wouldn't be like this-" Daniel said.

"Oh, ho!" Evan interrupted him, looking so mad that his face was red. "So you're so perfect that

now you can even cure diabetes?! Well, damn, let's call the newspapers. Brother Daniel is

a healer."

"Shut up, Evan," Daniel said, his voice full of warning. "That's not what I meant."

"I have an idea," Brian said. "Both of you shut up."

Brian's edict didn't seem to have much effect on either Daniel or Evan.

I could tell by the look on both their faces that either one of them or both, could,

at any moment, erupt, and things would go from bad to worse. Like volcanoes, both of them.

I couldn't sit by silently any longer. I stood up, and leaned over the bannister,

and yelled down, "Stop fighting! Just stop it!"

7


	11. Petra and Geranimo

As soon as I yelled, all five of them looked upward towards me.

Evan looked guilty, and Daniel's face wore a stricken expression. Guthrie looked sad and sympathetic.

"Everything's alright, peach," Brian said.

"No, it's not! I don't know why you guys are fighting about me, but I want

you to stop!" I yelled, even louder.

"I'm sorry, squirt," Daniel said.

"Then stop!" I hollered. "If you want to argue, find another reason! But don't do it about me!"

I hadn't even known Adam was coming up behind us, until he put a hand

on my shoulder. I turned to look up at him, dressed in a t-shirt and

sweatpants, his feet bare, and I burst into tears.

"They're fighting with each other about me, Adam!" I said.

Adam patted my back.

"I know. It's alright now. You two girls go on back to bed."

"I don't want them to fight!" I sobbed, pressing my face into his waist.

"Alright, Harlie. Everything's gonna be fine," he said, his tone

reassuring. He gave my back a few more pats.

"Go on to bed, now. Both of you."

"I can't sleep now," I said, feeling miserable.

"Well, you try. And I don't want to see either one of you lurking in the

hallway. Go to your room, shut the door, and go to bed," he ordered.

Adam's voice was firm, and I nodded.

"Okay," I managed.

"That goes for you, too," Adam told Kristin, equally firm.

"Okay, Adam," Kristin said, in a quiet voice.

"Scoot," Adam said, and we both moved quickly, kind of like two

rabbits.

Once we were in my bedroom, Kristin closed the door behind us. I

went to sit on my bed, pulling my knees up, and resting my chin on them.

Kristin sat down on the cot, and looked at me, her eyes wide.

"Wow," she said.

"Yeah," I said.

We sat in silence for a few moments.

"I don't hear anything," she said.

"No. I don't, either."

"Will Adam get Daniel and Evan to calm down?" she asked, looking worried.

"Yeah. He will. And Crane will, too."

"I've never seen anything like that here at your house before. Arguing, I mean."

"Well, we argue, and get loud, sometimes, but this is going to ruin Daniel's

visit home."

"Maybe not," Kristin said.

"I'm sorry this happened," I told her. "I mean, I know you get tired of hearing

arguing at your house. And now you have to hear it here tonight."

"I hope Daniel and Evan work it out," she said. "But it's not the same as it

is at my house. It's not the same at all."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Kristin looked thoughtful for a long moment, and then said, "Because at

my house, it's alcohol-induced arguing. Mean, hateful

arguing. Power grabbing arguing. Meaningless arguing. This, tonight, with Daniel and Evan, and

Brian and Crane, it wasn't any of those things. It was arguing, yeah,

but behind all the words, there was still love."

She looked at me, her eyes bright. "Still so much love. They were

arguing with each other BECAUSE of love. There's always love here, Harlie."

I nodded, but I couldn't speak past the lump in my throat.

"Let's go to sleep," she said, then, and I nodded again.

She turned off the lamp, and we both crawled into our beds.

We could hear footsteps and deep voices in the hallway, but the voices weren't loud.

Into the darkness, I spoke up quietly, "I'm sorry about Adam getting onto you

like that. Telling you not to lurk in the hallway, and telling you to go to bed. Talking

to you like-well, you know."

"You don't need to be sorry," Kristin said. "I'm not sorry."

"Huh?" I asked, not understanding.

When Kristin answered, even though I couldn't see her face, I could

hear the smile in her voice. "Don't you see, Harlie? He talked to me just like he did you.

Like I was his, too."

7

Once I got to sleep, it was a deep, restful sleep. I think it was just the long,

emotional week catching up to me. When I woke up the next morning, and looked

at my alarm clock, it was a few minutes before seven. Kristin was still asleep, her long hair spread

across her pillow.

I gathered up clean jeans and a 'Save the Manatee' t-shirt, and went into the

bathroom, taking a quick shower. It really was a quick one, too, because I was too

late getting there, and almost all the hot water had been used up. I pulled on my socks and boots,

and went downstairs, where the house was a hub of activity.

Guthrie was still sprawled out

on the couch, where he'd slept so that Red could have his bed. His arm was

flung across his forehead in sleep.

I could smell pancakes and bacon and hear laughter from the

kitchen.

When I walked in, it was to see Red spearing pancakes onto his plate, and

Daniel and Adam, Crane and Brian sitting at one end of the table, talking. Clare and Evan were

at the stove. Evan was turning strips of bacon in one pan, while Clare added more

to another pan.

"Morning, squirt," Daniel greeted me, and Red waved his fork at me in greeting.

"Hi," I said.

"Sit down here beside me," Daniel said.

Evan brought the platter around, forking bacon onto plates. He purposely dropped Daniel's bacon beside his plate, instead

of on it. "Whoops," he said, with a grin.

"I'll 'whoops' you in a minute," Daniel told him, picking up his bacon. They were acting like everything was fine between them, like last night

had never happened at all. I was glad about that, but yet, oddly, it kind of made me mad, too. Acting like complete

idiot jerks, and then poof! It's over. No matter that Kristin and I had been so upset by their hollering.

"Sit down here," Daniel said, again, motioning to the chair beside him.

"I've got stuff to do," I said shortly, and turned away from the hurt look on Daniel's face.

I went to grab a pancake from the platter in the middle of the table.

I took a spoonful of apple jelly and smeared it all over the pancake, realizing that they were all four watching

me, with varying degrees of concern and interest. I headed towards the back door, grabbing

a jacket.

"Hey, where you goin'?" Daniel said.

"Come and sit down, and eat a proper breakfast," Crane said.

"I'll eat some more later," I said to Crane, over my shoulder.

I thought I heard Crane say something else to me, but I shut the back door with a decisive thump, and went across the yard

towards the barn. Petra was standing beside the fence, as if she was waiting for me. I was glad it wasn't one of her stubborn mornings,

where she played the 'try and catch me' game. I took a couple of bites from the pancake,

and then tossed it to Gus, who was waiting there, looking at me with hopeful eyes.

I didn't take time to saddle Petra. I just got her bridle, climbed over the fence, and put it on her, and then hoisted myself

onto her bare back, using her mane to pull myself up.

I took off, encouraging Petra into a all-out run. When I finally slowed Petra to a walk, I was a long distance from the house. I knew

where I planned on going, though. To the Oak tree, where Guthrie and I had built a treehouse years ago.

I just let her move at her own pace for a while, with her stopping to sneak bites of grass.

When I got to the tree, I got off. I'd planned on climbing the tree and sitting in the treehouse for awhile. But a couple of the

rungs nailed to the tree were broken, and I found myself not feeling very well at all. For sure, not up to climbing a tree.

I sat down under the tree instead, leaning my back against the solidness.

I took some deep breaths, and closed my eyes, trying to fight the panic I was feeling. I was regretting not eating breakfast.

I hadn't checked my level, either. I sighed. Clare was going to be on me for that.

I was feeling pretty dizzy, too, and I started worrying. What if I passed out or something?

When I saw two riders coming my direction, I tried to get a better look at them, hoping against hope that it wasn't

Crane. Or Brian. Or Adam.

Guthrie and Kristin.

I breathed a sigh of relief. When they reached me, Guthrie jumped off without preamble, stalking towards me.

He looked irritated.

"How come you took off like that?" he asked.

"I needed to get away," I said.

"Well, you could have told somebody."

"Why? So they'd ask where I was going, and say how I shouldn't go riding alone because

I have stupid diabetes?"

"Well, Daniel's all worried. He was goin' out riding, looking for you."

"Oh." I felt bad about that. Even if I was ticked off at Daniel a little, I didn't want him to worry.

I didn't want anybody to worry about me.

Kristin had gotten off of Scout more slowly, and she came up quietly, and sat down beside

me. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. I felt her support even in her silence.

"I just needed to go, Guth. Right then. Just ride. You know?" I said.

Guthrie looked at me thoughtfully, and then he sighed, sitting down on the other side of me.

"Yeah," he said, in understanding.

"I feel like I'm going to explode sometimes," I said. "I feel like an insect under a microscope. I just

want everybody to leave me alone."

"Okay," he acknowledged. "But you know how they are about us goin' riding without telling somebody

where we're goin'. Brian looked pretty mad. Especially when Clare said something about you not

checking your level, or whatever it is."

"Great," I muttered.

"And you didn't eat much, either, and they said-"

"Okay, okay," I interrupted him. "I get it. I'm gonna get yelled at some more."

I sighed, and leaned my head back, closing my eyes.

"You okay?" Guthrie asked then. "You look kind of funny."

"Gee thanks, Guthrie." I opened my eyes, looking at Kristin. "How about that, Kristin? How

about a brother who can't wait to tell you that you look funny?"

Kristin gave me a direct look. "I don't know," she said. "I could be by the side of the road

with a broken leg, and Buddy wouldn't care enough to give me a second glance."

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling ashamed of myself, for making her think about her no-good

brother.

"You do look pale," she said.

"I guess I really don't feel very good," I admitted.

"What is it?" Guthrie asked immediately, his freckles leaping into prominence on his nose.

"I guess cause I didn't eat," I said.

"Well, that's dumb," Guthrie said, with the candor of a brother who knows your faults, and has

no qualms about telling them to you. "It's just plain dumb on your part, Har! If you know it's gonna

make you feel bad to not eat, then why would you do that?"

I closed my eyes again. I felt too icky to argue with him.

"You're right," I said.

Now, what male doesn't like to be told he's in the right? Guthrie is no exception to that

rule. He stopped haranguing me. At least for the moment.

"Hold on a minute," he said, and got up, walking to Geranimo, and digging thru the saddle

bags. He came back, plopped down beside me again, and handed me an apple, and half

a package of cheese crackers.`

I ate the crackers, and started on the apple.

"Quit worryin' me," Guthrie complained.

"Okay. I'm sorry, Guth."

"It's kind of infantile, to not take care of yourself."

"I know. Sorry," I said, again.

He stood up, reaching into his jeans pocket for his pack of gum, and unwrapping a piece.

"You must be feelin' bad, if you're not gonna argue back with me," he said, popping the gum

in his mouth, and stuffing the wrapper back into his pocket.

"When you're right, you're right," I said.

"Are you ready to head back now?" he asked. "When you feel better, I mean."

"I'm okay," I said. "We can go now." I tossed what was left of the apple over to Petra.

I stood up, too, and so did Kristin. When we were all mounted, we rode sedately for

awhile, and then when the barns and house were within eyesight, Guthrie looked over at me.

"You feelin' alright now?" he asked me.

"I'm fine," I said.

"Then five dollars says Geranimo can beat Petra to the corral."

"Fat chance of that," I scoffed.

"Put your money where your mouth is," he said, with a grin.

"I don't have five dollars. And when I do get any money, I have to give it to Evan, to help

pay for Warrior's milk stuff, and his food."

"Well," Guthrie said, looking as though he was deep in thought, "I guess you can pay

it off by washing my truck."

"There's no way I'd have to wash your truck," I said, "and I can sure use the five dollars

you'll have to give me." And then I grinned at him.

"I'll even give you a head start since you're ridin' bareback," Guthrie said.

"I don't need no stinking head start," I told him.

"Well, alright then." He looked over at Kristin. "You want to be at the gate? You can be the

judge. Just in case Harlie gets lucky, and is a close second?"

"Very funny," I told him, and Kristin giggled.

"Sure," she said. "Good luck and may the best man, or best woman, win!"

She urged Scout into a mild gallop, and headed towards the barn.

Guthrie spent the waiting moments, leaning forward in his saddle, and popping his

gum.

"Didn't anybody ever tell you it's rude to smack your gum that way?" I told him.

Guthrie leaned out of his saddle and over towards me, smacking the gum even louder.

"I'm doing it to break your concentration," he said. "Is it workin'?"

"I don't need concentration. Petra could outrun Geranimo if she only had three legs."

"Oh, ho! Big talk from a little girl."

We stopped our bantering to watch as Kristin finished the ride to the corral. She waved a hand

at us.

Guthrie threw his gum down on the ground, and reached into his pocket for a fresh piece, popping it

in his mouth.

"Tell you what," he said, smacking loudly. "I'd like my truck waxed after you wash it."

"Big talk from a little boy," I mocked. "Count of three?"

"Count of three."

We counted together, "One. Two. THREE!"

We were off, both of us urging our horses into full gallop. It was pretty much neck in neck, with

me being just a smidge ahead, when I looked toward the corral, and saw Brian sitting on the top rail,

on the opposite side.

As we reached Kristin, Guthrie won, as they say, by a nose.

We pulled to a stop beside Kristin and Scout. I tried to avoid looking over towards Brian, who,

I could tell, from the corner of my eye, was not moving from his vantage spot on the rail.

"You had me beat, Har," Guthrie said. "What happened?"

"You popping gum doesn't break my concentration," I told him. "But that does." I gave a

slight nod towards Brian.

Guthrie gave a glance toward Brian. "Yeah," he said. "I wouldn't wanna be in your shoes right now."

"It's not my shoes I'm worried about," I said.

7777777

"What's he going to do?" Kristin asked, as Brian jumped down from the rail, and started towards us.

"He'll just yell," I said, but I sounded braver than I felt. I hate it when Brian gets mad at me.

"He looks so mad," Kristin said, sounding nervous.

"As long as I don't lie to him, it'll be alright," I said.

Brian came over and opened the gate, motioning us thru. After we passed by him, still on horseback,

he gave us a pointed look, mostly directed at me.

"Have a nice ride?" he asked succinctly.

"Yeah," I said quietly.

"It's good that you two can be havin' a horse race while the whole family is worried," he said, his tone

showing what he thought of that.

I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything. I just gave Brian a somber look.

"We were just havin' some fun, Brian," Guthrie said. "It seems like Harlie needs a little fun."

"I don't disagree with that," Brian said. "Guthrie, you and Kristin go on, so Harlie and I can

talk for a bit." He put his hand on Petra's neck.

Guthrie gave me a sympathetic look. He seemed reluctant to leave me.

"I'll wash your truck later, Guth," I told him.

"Naw, don't worry about it," Guthrie said. "It was pretty much a draw. Come on, Kristin."

Kristin gave me a simpatico look, too, and followed Guthrie to the other side of the corral, where

they began unsaddling Scout and Geranimo.

"Can you get down, please?" Brian said. "I don't want to look up into the sun the whole time

we're talkin'."

I slid off of Petra, and Brian took the bridle off, giving her a light smack on her rump, and she

cantered into the pasture.

"We don't have a lot of rules for you kids," he started out by saying, putting his hands

on his hips. "One of them hasn't changed, ever. It's been the same for everybody, all thru the years. What is that?"

"Always tell somebody where you're riding to," I said, quietly.

"So what's up with being the big rebel all the time now? Acting like you've forgotten things

that you've grown up knowing?"

"There's no excuse for it," I said.

Brian studied me for a long moment, looking thoughtful.

"I expected more fight from you than that," he said. "Like some major sass, and some

elaborate reasons why you rode out of here like Calamity Jane after a bank robbery."

"I'm not going to sass you. I know it was the wrong thing to do."

"Yet you did it, anyway," he said. "That's what I can't figure out about this whole thing with

you. It's like you just don't give a damn about what anybody thinks anymore."

"I care what you think," I said.

At his raised eyebrow look, I said stoutly, "I do, Bri!"

"It doesn't seem that way. Not to me, anyway. You just keep breaking the rules, and then,

when you're caught, you either make excuses, or else you own up to it, but with no remorse. No

emotion."

"Well, I can't show emotion," I said.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not supposed to make rude comments, or give answers that aren't respectful. By

orders of Crane and Adam."

"Huh," he said, giving me another thoughtful look. "I think you're taking what they're sayin'

and twisting it, so you can close yourself off from everybody, and not have to face up to this

whole diabetes thing."

"I'm facing up to it the best as I can. I had to get away, Brian. When I'm on Petra, being sick doesn't have anything to do with it. At

least when I'm riding, I feel normal."

I'd spoken in a quick rush of words, and when I stopped to take a breath, Brian was looking at me

steadily.

"You know what I mean, don't you, Bri?" I said, suddenly desperate for him to understand.

"Yeah. I think I do. But that doesn't make it okay to worry everybody or break the rules.

You've got Hannah and Clare in a stir because you didn't check your level, and Crane's so

worked up over you not eatin' breakfast, he's worryin' like an old mother hen."

"I don't want anybody to worry about me. That's not what I'm trying to do. I just

want to be left alone," I said.

Brian raised an eyebrow at me. "Left alone, huh?"

"Well," I said, adding honestly, "Mostly alone. Everybody's all the time hovering

over me, or watching me like I'm some kind of insect on display somewhere."

"That's pretty harsh, Harlie. They're all just worried about you."

"You don't do that. You treat me just the same. And Guthrie does, too. But everybody else-forget

it."

"Well, if you quit doing things to cause them to worry, and started actin' your

age. then just maybe they'd stop hovering so much."

I felt my cheeks flush and I turned away, to lean against the corral gate.

"How do I not act my age?" I asked, quietly.

"It'd be acting your age to eat right, all the time, and check your level without anybody

havin' to remind you."

"Okay."

"And how about a heads up before you take off somewhere, so we know where

to look for you if Petra comes home without you one of these times," he said.

I winced a little at his tone.

"Okay. I'm sorry, Bri."

"You don't have to apologize to me. But you've got several other people you might

need to say it to."

I nodded, reluctantly.

"Best get to the house and get it done, then," he said, not sounding at all sympathetic.

"I've got chores to do first," I said.

"Noooo," he said. "You've got fence mendin' inside to do first. Chores after that."

I rolled my eyes at him a little, at his comparison of fence mending for apologizing.

"Besides," he added, "you weren't all that concerned with your chores when you tore out

of here this mornin', were ya?" He gave me a healthy push towards the house.

"Geez, Bri," I complained, "don't shove. I'm going, I'm going."

"You know Adam's gonna go ballistic on you for ridin' out without permission," Brian

said, as we talked towards the house.

"Great," I muttered.

"Well, you do the crime, you do the time. You dance, you pay the piper. You-"

"Okay, I get it," I said.

I looked up at him. "Bri?"

"What?"

"You could tell Adam you already yelled at me."

"Oh, I could, huh?" Brian said, giving me a narrowed eye look.

"Yeah. You could tell him you really gave me what for. That you took care of it."

"Hmm," Brian said, looking thoughtful, like he was thinking about it. "I could do that, I

guess. But why should I? Seems to me that it doesn't much matter what anybody says to

you. You might as well get as many lectures as you can."

I gave him what I hoped was a suitably pitiful look.

"That Bambi look doesn't work on me, peach. You know that."

I sighed. "Okay."

"If I was to talk to Adam, and I said if," he specified, as I looked at him hopefully,

"Then I'd have to feel right about it. Like I'd done my best to make an impression on you."

"What's that mean?" I asked, a little bit nervously.

"Well, for starters, if it was up to me, I'd ground you from riding for the rest of today, and

tomorrow, too. There's no sense to you just disregarding the rules that way."

I stopped walking to look at him. "I'll tell somebody next time, every time, Bri. I promise."

Brian stopped walking, too. He shrugged. "I'd still ground you, though. So it's that, or I turn Adam

loose on you."

As we stood there looking at each other, I sighed again.

Not getting to ride for two days really sucked. Big time. But it was better than braving

the unknown abyss of what Adam might say or do.

"Okay," I said, reluctantly. "I'll take the grounding from you."

"Okay, then," Brian said. "I'll talk to him."

As we continued on then, walking to the house, Brian gave a chuckle.

"Big brother must have quite the frightening side to him," he said.

"You have no idea," I said.

7


	12. The Flying Ladder

When we went into the house, Brian headed to the kitchen to get a cup of

coffee. I followed along after him, to find Clare and Hannah cutting out homemade

doughnuts on the table. There were already some frying in Hannah's cast-iron skillet on

the stove.

"Smells good in here," Brian told them.

"Is my honey hungry?" Clare asked him.

"I could go for a doughnut," Brian said, looking hopeful.

"There's none ready yet," Hannah told him. "And besides, they're for company tomorrow."

"We havin' company tomorrow?" Brian asked.

"Yes, for Daniel."

"Who all's comin'?"

"Marie, and Doc G, the Peterson's, and the Nelson's, and whoever else we

think to call."

Brian nodded, and sat down in a chair beside Clare.

Hannah and Clare both turned their attention to me.

"Hey, kiddo," Clare greeted me.

"Hi," I said quietly, looking at Hannah.

Hannah was looking serious at me.

"I was worried about you," she said, sounding grave.

"I'm sorry, Hannah," I said.

Hannah wiped her hands on her apron. "There comes a time, Harlie Marie,

when sorry just isn't enough. You aren't there yet, but you're getting close to it."

I was actually shocked at the irritation in her voice. Hannah so rarely gets cross

with me and Guthrie that I'm not used to it.

I looked towards Brian. He shrugged as if to say that I'd brought it on myself.

"Okay," I said, not knowing what else to say, and feeling as though I might start

crying.

"Check your level," Clare said.

"Okay," I said, again, and went to do that. When Clare asked what it was, and I told

her, she looked concerned, and exchanged a look with Brian and Hannah.

"Sit down and eat something," she told me, and the way she said it, it wasn't

a request. More of an order.

I got out a cheese stick and a pear, and sat down at the table, keeping quiet

and letting them talk around me.

"Are you done with your chores?" Hannah asked me.

I shook my head, my mouth full of pear.

"Well, when you're done, I could use your help in the house today."

Inwardly, I groaned, but I tried not to show it on my face. I wanted to be outdoors

in the sunshine. Even if I couldn't go riding, I'd definately rather be outside than stuck

in the house.

"Okay," I said. I wondered what Kristin was doing, and where Daniel was.

As if she could read my thoughts, Hannah spoke up, "Kristin said she'll be inside

to help in a little bit, too." Hannah stood up, and took the plate of cut out doughnut

dough to the stove, and added them to the skillet of hot oil.

"And Daniel is looking for you, Harlie," she added, over her shoulder.

I swallowed my last bite of pear. "He is?"

"Uh huh."

"If you're done eatin', you'd best get to your chores," Brian told me.

"Okay."

I was throwing my pear core into the trash when I heard Adam's voice, mixed with

Crane's, sounding as if they were headed to the kitchen.

I shot Brian a quick look. "You promised," I reminded him.

"Yeah, I know," Brian said, waving a hand at me. "I'll head him off."

I made a quick exit out the back door. I went to check on the pups, and took Warrior

along with me as I fed and watered the goats, and then started mucking out the stalls.

I was about halfway thru, when Daniel came into the barn. He was wearing torn

jeans and he had grease all over his clothes and his hands.

"Hi," I said, quietly, stopping to lean on the rake in my hands.

"Hi," he said, coming over to near where I stood.

"Guess they put you to work, huh?" I said, gesturing towards his

dirty clothes.

"Yeah. It didn't take long for that to happen."

"It never does. Right?"

"Right."

I suddenly realized that Daniel and I were having kind of a stilted conversation. I could

never remember that happening before.

It must have struck Daniel at the same moment, because he took another couple

of steps closer to me, and said, "I went looking for you earlier."

I nodded at him. "Guthrie told me."

"So what's the deal? You mad at me, or what?"

I turned back to the stall, raking it, and dumping it into the wheelbarrow.

"I don't know," I said.

"You either are, or you aren't."

"Why would I be mad at you?" I asked vaguely.

Daniel reached out and took the rake from my hand, and I turned to look

at him in protest.

"Since when do you slip around what you're feelin'?" Daniel asked.

"Since I'm always saying things to make people angry!" I said, without

thinking.

"Huh," he said. "Well, I won't get angry. I promise. Tell me what you're so

pissed at me about."

"Because of last night! Fighting with Evan!"

"That's between me and Evan," Daniel said. "Besides, we already worked it out."

"Yeah, but it was about me! I don't want you guys fighting about me."

Daniel sighed, looking thoughtful. "Okay. I'm sorry. We shouldn't have gotten

so loud. And we should have talked privately somewhere else. We sure never meant

to upset you."

"Okay."

"So am I off the hook?" he asked, smiling at me a little.

"Yeah. I guess so," I said, smiling back at him.

"I really was just concerned about you, you know," he said. "It was a shock,

hearing that you had diabetes, and then coming home and seeing you lookin' like

a small wind would blow you away."

"Keep on telling me how bad I look, Daniel," I said dryly, crossing my eyes at him.

"I don't mean it like that," he said. "You don't look bad. Just skinny. I'm not tryin' to hurt

your feelings."

"Oh, I know it," I said. "I'm just teasing you."

"Okay," he said, and handed back my rake.

"Want some help?" he asked.

"Aren't you supposed to be fixing the tractor?"

"Four wheeler," he corrected me.

"Four-wheeler, then."

"I can help you for a while."

"You know, Daniel, I'm not helpless. I can still do everything I was doing before," I told him, and

Daniel shrugged, acting as if he were going to walk away.

"Okay, then," he said, "if you don't want my help mucking stalls-"

I grabbed his arm. "I want your help, I want your help!" I said, laughing.

Daniel went to get another rake, and between us we finished the job fairly quickly.

Daniel tried to get me to talk about myself while we worked side by side, asking

my feelings about having diabetes, and all of that.

I gave him an eye roll. "I feel lousy about it," I said.

"Sorry. Guess that's a pretty dumb question."

"It's not that," I said, knowing that Daniel meant well. "I don't want to talk about

me, though. I want to hear about all the gigs you've gotten, and the people you've met."

So for the next half-hour, Daniel told about the place he and the band had played at the most.

"What's it like?" I asked.

"It's a nice place. Pretty classy."

"Are you making a lot of money?" I asked.

"We're doin' alright."

"I'll bet you brought some money home, too, for the family," I said, knowingly.

"Helping with the ranch expenses is part of my responsibility, too, squirt."

"I know. Good luck getting all three of them to take it from you, though. Brian might,

but Adam and Crane are going to say it's your money, and that you need to save it for

your future, and all of that."

"They'll see it my way," he said, with a grin.

I leaned my rake in a corner of a stall, picked Warrior up, and sat down on a nearby bale of

hay.

"I wish I could get a job," I said.

"What for?"

I gave him a look, suggesting that he was a wee bit crazy.

"Because I need money of my own. I have Warrior to take care of, and I want to buy

a truck. I have classes to pay for. Lots of things."

"I don't think Adam or anybody else around here will refuse to feed Warrior. And you're

not even 16 yet. Plenty of time to worry about a truck."

"Two weeks, Daniel," I reminded him. "And besides, I'd have to save up a long

time before I can buy anything good to drive. I need to start working as soon as I can."

"Evan, Ford and Guthrie and I all had help buying our first vehicles," Daniel said. "No reason

Adam and Brian and Crane won't help you, too. So will I, for that matter."

"Thanks, Daniel. I know you mean it, but you're the only one. They won't help me now."

"Well, maybe if you straighten up, and quit gettin' yourself thrown out of school and-"

"It's not that," I interrupted him.

"Well, what then?"

"Because I'm a girl, for one thing. They won't think I need one like all of you guys."

"That's a load of baloney," he said.

"It's not."

Daniel straightened up, and stopped raking. He looked like he was ready with

more arguments, so I said quickly, "Besides, now that I have diabetes, they won't want

me to drive, so they're not going to offer any help. I'll have to earn the money myself."

"Even if you could buy a brand new 1987 Dodge Ram all on your own, as long as you

live in this house, you wouldn't be able to drive it further than the driveway without

their say so," Daniel said flatly.

He was right, and I knew it, but I just shrugged, and rubbed my face in Warrior's

fur.

"You know, you don't have it so bad here," Daniel said.

"Having diabetes isn't so bad?" I said, with sarcasm.

Daniel narrowed his eyes at me. "That's not what I meant. I mean, here at home. Havin'

a big family is a good thing. There's lots of people to talk to, to look out for you."

"Lots of people to tell me what to do, what not to do-"

Daniel shook his head, acting disgusted. "You sure are cynical," he said, going back to

the raking.

For a few minutes, there was silence in the barn.

Finally, I said quietly, "I didn't mean that, Daniel. I love it that our family is so big."

Daniel stopped to look at me seriously for a moment, and then he leaned the rake

against the stall, and came to sit beside me on the bale of hay.

He reached out to rub Warrior's head. "He sure is a good-lookin' pup."

I nodded. "Yeah. I really love him."

"I'm gonna give you some more advice," he said. "Plug your ears if you don't want to

hear it."

"I'll listen."

"I remember how it felt to have Adam and Brian always telling me what I should and

shouldn't do. I didn't like it, either. It used to make me mad as hell sometimes. Especially

when Adam would start in on how I needed to finish school and grow up a little bit before

I left to pursue my music."

"I remember those fights," I said. "It was awful."

"Yeah. I was pretty bull-headed. So sure that I knew what was best for myself. But, I've

learned something over the last couple of years. He was right to want me to wait. I'm glad

now that he stuck to his guns. I think the same will be true for you. Any guidance they're

givin' you, you should take it. They have your best interests at heart."

"Okay." I leaned my head against his arm. "You do too, right?"

"I do too, what?"

"Have my best interests at heart."

"From the day you were born, squirt. Rule number 2 in the older brother rulebook."

7777777

When I was charging up the porch steps to the house, I collided with Adam, on

his way out.

"Whoa," he said, reaching out to steady me, with a hand on each of my shoulders.

"Sorry," I said breathlessly.

"Done with your chores?" he asked.

"Yes. I got all the stalls mucked out." I hesitated, and added honestly, "Daniel

helped me."

"Alright." Adam dropped his hands and studied me intently. It looked like

he wanted to say something else, probably about me riding off that morning willy nilly,

but all he said was, "I think Hannah's needing your help."

"Okay," I said. "See you later."

As I started to go around him, he halted me with an outstretched hand.

"Guthrie said somethin' about going to the movies tonight, and you going along."

"He thought we could double date," I said.

"With Tony Williams?"

At my nod, Adam said, "Well, I don't think that's gonna happen. Not this time, anyway.

With you being suspended, and then riding off this morning like you did, I just can't go

along with you goin' out tonight."

"Okay," I said, quietly.

"It's not that I have anything against Tony," Adam added. "He seems like a good kid. Maybe another time,

but for right now you're grounded."

"Okay," I said, again. I mean, there was really nothing else I could say. I'd gotten in

enough trouble the last few days. I was not anxious to get into more.

"Alright. See you later," he said.

"Bye." I watched him walk away, across the yard towards the barn, before I sighed,

and turned to go into the house.

It smelled good inside, like cinnamon and apples. I took my boots off at the door, and

followed the sound of laughter to the kitchen. Kristin and Guthrie were chopping up vegetables

at the kitchen counter, and Hannah and Clare were rolling out pie dough on the kitchen table.

"Hi, Harlie!" Kristin called when she saw me come in.

"Hey Har," Guthrie added.

"Hi."

"Ready to help?" Hannah asked me.

I nodded, and she smiled at me. "Would you mind checking the laundry for me?" she

asked. "We haven't had a chance to get down there to put the last couple of loads in."

"Okay," I said, and headed down the stairs.

I was sorting the last of the laundry, and filling the washing machine, when Guthrie came

down the stairs. "Hey," he said, hopping down the last four steps.

"Hey."

"We're gonna leave around six for the movies," he said.

"I can't go," I said. "Adam said no."

"Damn," Guthrie swore. "I figured he might, but I was hopin' he wouldn't. I'll

try to talk to him."

"No, Guth. Don't. Just leave it alone. I have a feeling I'll get grounded worse

if you mix in."

"Okay," Guthrie agreed reluctantly.

Guthrie helped me fold the load of towels that was in the dryer, and then we

carried them upstairs, and put them away on the bathroom shelves.

When we went back to the kitchen, Guthrie looked at Kristin and grinned.

"Guess I'd better finish my chores," he said.

"Lunch in an hour," Hannah told him.

Hannah put Kristin and me in charge of dusting the living room, which is a

huge job. For some of the shelves you have to stand on the ladder that is actually

hooked to the wall, and slides along the track at the top. There's been many

times over my growing up years that we've had a lot of fun on that ladder, giving each

other pushes to send us to the other end. At times, those pushes have been so hard

that whoever was on it was practically flying and would come to a sudden, jerking halt.

We did all the low dusting first, and then we took turns on the ladder. Kristin went

first, and I gave her a gentle push.

She was laughing and then she gave me a couple pushes. We weren't being loud

enough to attract attention, but when Guthrie and Evan came in, they joined in, and

we got louder. Guthrie gave Kristin a push and then hopped onto the rung under the one

that Kristin was standing on.

Evan and I were standing there cracking up, when Adam, Brian, Crane and Daniel

came in thru the front door, and Hannah and Clare came from the kitchen to see what

all the laughing was about.

Hannah came in just in time to see Guthrie and Kristin sailing along the length of

the wall, at a speed that was apparently alarming to her.

"Guthrie James!" she hollered, and Guthrie gave her a wide grin as he

leaped off, and then held the ladder so Kristin didn't get shaken off.

"You're trying to give me a heart attack," she said. "I know you are!"

"Sorry, Hannah," he said, as he helped Kristin down.

"You're not sorry," Hannah denied. "Not one bit."

At lunch there was baked chicken, and corn on the cob, and baked potatoes.

I knew very well why it was baked chicken, and not fried. We never have

baked chicken.

"Just because I'm not supposed to have fried stuff, it's not fair that all

the guys have to give up their favorite foods," I told Hannah, as I slid into

my chair at the table.

"It won't hurt anybody to eat baked chicken once in awhile," Hannah said

stoutly. "It's time we all started eating healthier around here, anyway."

Nobody complained about lunch, and I knew Hannah had prepared them

all beforehand.

I ate my lunch, and then Kristin and I did the dishes. Hannah went upstairs to

lay down. It was while we were washing the dishes that the phone rang. When

I went to answer it, it was Kristin's mom. I stepped to the kitchen doorway and

called Kristin.

"Is it my mom?" she asked knowingly.

"Yeah." I hesitated, and then gave her a forewarning, "She sounds upset."

I went back to the dishes to give Kristin some privacy while she talked.

When she came back, she said, "My mom wants me to come home, and not spend

the night tonight. They had another fight, and Frank left."

"Oh." I didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. "Is your mom okay?"

"No. She says she doesn't want to be alone tonight."

"Are you going to still be able to go to the movies tonight with Guthrie?"

"I'm going to see if we can go to an earlier one, but yeah, I'm still going. I get

tired of having to be the grownup all the time, and take care of her when they fight."

As soon as she said the words, she looked guilty, and pressed her hand to her mouth.

"I sound so selfish!" she said.

"No. It's not selfish to feel that way," I defended her.

As we were talking, the back screen door opened, and Crane came inside.

He could see right away that there was something going on, and he poured a

cup of coffee, keeping an eye on us while he did it.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

Kristin burst into tears, and sat down at the kitchen table, burying her face

in her arms. Crane looked to me for an explanation, his face showing his concern.

I knew Kristin liked Crane, and trusted him, so I knew she wouldn't mind if I

told him what was going on.

"Her mom called. There was a fight, and Frank left. Her mom wants her to come home," I said,

giving him a shortened version of the story.

He nodded, and sat down in the chair beside Kristin. He rubbed her shoulder for

a few minutes, not saying anything.

When he finally did speak, he said quietly, "Is your mom safe?"

Kristin's shoulders shook as she answered. "He hit her again!"

I felt my stomach clinch. She hadn't told me that.

"Alright," Crane said, sounding calm. "I think the thing to do is for you to go

home right now, and check on your mom. See if she needs any help, if maybe

we should call the sheriff. Then we'll go from there."

"Buddy came-came around, asking for m-money," Kristin managed to say

around her arms.

"Harlie, hand me that box of Kleenex," Crane told me, pointing to the top

of the refrigerator.

When I'd done that, Crane pulled a couple of tissues out of the box.

"Look up here at me," he said, and when Kristin did that, he wiped her face.

"Will you come, too, Crane?" Kristin asked him.

"If you want me to, I will."

Kristin sat up straight in the chair. "I want you to."

"Alright," he said. " We'll go see what we can do. Let me go tell Brian where I'm going.

You gather up your stuff, and meet me outside by the Jeep."

Kristin nodded, and moved to obey him. As she headed out of the kitchen, Crane

sighed, and stood up, pushing the chair back up to the table.

I was standing there, feeling sad and a little stunned, and he reached out

to run his hand over the side of my face.

"I want to come," I told him.

"I think you'd better stay here."

"Guthrie's going to want to go."

"Guthrie's not going to go, either. Where's Hannah?"

"Upstairs, taking a nap."

"Can you go up and tell her I want to talk to her, and see if she can come

down?"

"Okay," I said, and went to do what he asked.

I filled Hannah in on what was going on, as she sat up on the edge of the bed.

She didn't say a whole lot, but she moved quickly to go downstairs. Or as quickly as

a seven month pregnant lady can move.

"I wish I could go, too," I told her on the way down the stairs.

"What did Crane say?"

"He said no."

"Well, I think Crane is right," she said.

"Is there a law that says all adults have to stick together?" I asked her.

"Absolutely," she said.

She went outside to talk to Crane, who was already in conversation with Adam, beside

the Jeep. Kristin was standing, off to the side, holding hands with Guthrie. She wasn't

crying anymore, but her eyes were all puffy and red.

I went to stand beside her, and she reached out with her other hand to take mine, squeezing

it. I squeezed back.

"Crane says I can't come," I said.

"I know. It's okay. I think Hannah is going to come," she said.

I gave Guthrie another look. He was tight-lipped and silent. He looked mad.

Crane looked over at the three of us. "Come on, Kris-10," he said, giving her a

slight smile.

Kristin went to climb into the back seat of the Jeep, Guthrie following.

"Call me later," he said, and Kristin nodded.

Adam helped Hannah into the passenger side seat, and when Crane was

behind the steering wheel, he started the Jeep, and they roared away, leaving

Adam, and Guthrie and me standing there.

Guthrie muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'damn bastard!'

and stalked off towards the barn.

I would have followed him, but Adam put a hand on my arm.

"Leave him alone for awhile," he advised.

I nodded reluctantly.

"I better get back to helping Daniel," Adam said. "You all finished with

what Hannah wanted done in the house?"

"No. Not with everything. There's still dusting to do."

"Okay. Better get back to it."

I turned towards the house.

"Hey, sugar," Adam said, and I looked back at him.

"No more sliding on the ladder today," he said. " We don't need a trip to the emergency room

added to our schedule."

"I won't," I told him. "I don't feel like it anymore, anyway."

7


	13. Return of a bad seed

I went inside, and finished all the dusting. The house was too quiet, and I found myself

wishing somebody would come inside and make some noise.

I sat down on the couch, and started working on my English homework. At

around three o'clock, I went to the door, looking out across the yard. There

was nobody in sight at all.

I went out to the barn, scooped Warrior up, and took him inside. Just this once, I

thought maybe Hannah wouldn't care. Warrior took being in the house in stride,

sniffing around for a few minutes, and then laying down on the couch beside me,

his head on my leg.

I worked some more on my English, and then wandered into the kitchen,

wondering if I should start supper. Adam came in while I was standing there, thinking.

"What's up, buttercup?" he asked me.

"I'm pondering," I told him, and opened the refrigerator door, looking inside.

"Oh, yeah?" He reached out and took an apple from the fruit bowl on the table,

wiping it on his sleeve. "What is it you're pondering?"

"What Hannah was planning on having for supper tonight."

"Ahh," he said, joining me to stand in front of the open refrigerator door. "Any

evidence?"

I surveyed the shelves, chock full of food but nothing made up.

"Nope," I said.

I closed the refrigerator door, and we both looked around. No crock pot plugged

in.

"Huh," Adam said.

"Huh," I echoed.

"Well, how about breakfast for supper?" Adam asked.

"Okay," I agreed. "I hope Kristin gets to come back."

"I wouldn't count on that. Sounds as though her mama

might need her tonight."

"Yeah."

Adam told me to get some bacon and sausage out of the freezer. When I brought

them over to him, he put everything on the kitchen counter.

"Want to mix up the pancake batter?" he asked me.

"I'd rather set the table. You're better at pancakes than I am."

"Flattery, flattery," Adam said, and started getting out the pancake mix and a

big bowl.

Adam started mixing up the batter, and thawing out the meat in the microwave.

"I hope Crane and Hannah get home soon," I said, as I set the table.

"Mix up some orange juice," Adam told me.

"Do you think they will?" I asked, going to the silverware drawer, and counting

out forks and knives.

"What?"

"Do you think they'll get home soon?" I persisted.

"We can hope so, but I don't think we should plan on anything, until we

actually see them driving in."

"Is Guthrie alright?"

"He will be. He's trying to rein his temper in."

"Maybe it would be a good idea if somebody actually did punch Frank out," I said

darkly. "I'll bet Guthrie could do a good job of it."

"Orange juice, Harlie," Adam reiterated.

"Don't you think Frank deserves to be laid out?" I insisted.

"Absolutely, I do. But it's not gonna be a McFadden that does it."

"Maybe it shouldn't be one McFadden. Maybe it should be several

McFaddens," I said, and at Adam's sharp glance, I shrugged, and

got out a pitcher to mix up orange juice.

When I'd mixed it up, I set the pitcher in the refrigerator to have it start

getting cold. Adam started frying up the bacon and sausage, and I went to

the counter beside the stove, hoisting myself up to sit on the counter, so I could

watch him cook.

"Adam?"

"What?"

"Do you think it's right that Kristin has to be like the adult, and take care

of her mom?"

"That's not for me to say."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're gonna get," Adam said.

Daniel and Brian came in then, and Brian washed his hands at the sink.

Daniel leaned against my legs, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Is Red gonna be here for supper?" Adam asked.

"Naw," Daniel said. "He's gonna meet some buddies at the bar for a game of pool."

I tightened my hold on Daniel. "You're not going out tonight, are you?" I asked, alarmed.

"I dunno. I might. Ahhhh," he said, as I squeezed his neck even harder.

"The correct answer is: 'no, I'm staying home with my beautiful sister tonight'" I prompted

him, playfully.

"No, I'm staying home with my beautiful sister tonight," Daniel repeated, going along with it, and I loosened my hold on his neck, nodding in approval.

"My skinny sister, I mean," Daniel amended, and I punched his arm.

"Hey!" I protested.

"If Dan'l wants to go out, it's none of your business, young lady," Brian

told me.

Brian looked serious, and I subsided, resting my chin on Daniel's shoulder.

"It's alright, I'd planned on stayin' around home tonight," Daniel said. "I was

thinkin', a game of poker might put some life in the evening." He eyed Adam

and Brian. "If anybody's up for it, I mean. And they don't have to go to bed too early,

seein' as they're gettin' up there in years a bit-"

I couldn't control the giggle that escaped.

"Would that be a challenge, little brother?" Brian asked him.

"If you want to take it as such," Daniel said, with a grin.

Brian and Adam exchanged a look.

"Texas Hold 'Em?" Brian asked, drying his hands on a dish towel.

"No limit?" Adam asked.

"Whatever you fellows want," Daniel said, with a grin.

"You're on, and I hope you're prepared to lose big," Brian said.

Adam asked Daniel to hand him a couple of cartons of eggs from the refrigerator,

and he took over making scrambled eggs, while Brian started cooking the pancakes.

"Start making some toast," Adam told me, and I hopped down from the counter and

started putting slices of bread in the toaster.

The phone was ringing and I went to answer it. For a minute there was silence

after I said hello, so I said it a second time.

"Hello?"

"Is Harlie there?"

I hesitated before I answered. That voice sounded familiar. I had a vague feeling

of uneasiness.

"Who is this?" I asked.

"I'd like to talk to Harlie," the voice insisted.

My curiousity got the better of me. Apparently, whoever it was wasn't going to

divulge their identity to anyone that they weren't sure was me.

"This is Harlie," I said.

Another small silence, and then, "Harlie, this is Seth."

For a moment, I was so surprised that I didn't say anything at all.

"Harlie?"

"Yeah. I'm here. What do you want?" I hoped my voice didn't sound

as shaky to him as it did to me.

"I just wanted to talk to you for a few minutes. Can we meet up somewhere?"

"What do you think we could possibly have to talk about?" I asked him.

"I'm not lookin' for any trouble, Harlie, honest. I just wanna talk to you."

I heard boots scuffing behind me, and turned to see Daniel and Evan standing

there behind me.

"Hurry up, will ya, Har?" Evan told me. "I've gotta make a call."

"Alright," I said, and when they both just stood there, looking at me, I turned

back to the phone in my hand.

"I have to go," I said.

"Don't hang up," Seth said, and I reacted with impatience.

"What?!"

"Please meet me somewhere. I have to talk to you about somethin'."

"Tell me what it is," I insisted.

"I'd rather talk to you face to face."

I saw out of the corner of my eye that both Daniel and Evan were listening with

obvious interest to my conversation.

"Do you guys mind?" I said, raising my eyebrow at them both, in an effort to get them to leave

the room.

"You're not botherin' me," Evan said, sitting down on the arm of the couch, and studying

his fingernails.

"Me, either," Daniel said, plopping down in a chair and putting his feet up on

a footstool, grinning at me.

"I have to go," I said into the phone again.

"I'll call you back later. Tonight, about nine, okay?"

"No! Don't do that."

"Then you call me. I'm stayin' at my cousin Joe's house. You know Joe, right?"

"Yeah, I know him. But I'm not going to-"

"Harlie. Just call me. Alright?" Seth said, and then he hung up.

I was so taken aback by his arrogance at telling me what to do, and expecting me

to do it, that I held the phone to my ear for a full moment after there was nothing but

silence.

Finally, I hung up the receiver, and turned to face Daniel and Evan.

"Who was that?" Evan asked, without preamble.

"Yeah. Sounded pretty intense," Daniel said, looking at me curiously.

"It was nobody," I said.

"Nobody? I don't think I know them. Do you, Ev?" Daniel asked, teasing.

"Nooo, I don't think so," Evan said, pretending to be thoughtful.

"Is Nobody a brother to Noone?" Daniel said.

"Ha, ha," I said.

"I think they're just cousins," Evan said.

I faced Evan, my hands on my hips. "I thought you were in such a hurry to use

the phone."

"Oh, I am, I am," Evan said, and I could tell he was holding back his laughter.

"Then go on and use it," I said, and stomped back to the kitchen with the sound

of their laughter following me.

"Who was on the phone?" Brian asked me, flipping pancakes at the stove.

"It was nothing important," I said.

"Well, who was it?" Brian asked again.

"It was just somebody from my English class with a question," I said, avoiding

Brian's eye.

"The toast's ready to be buttered," Adam said, and I went to take the toast

out of the toaster, adding four more slices of bread, and spreading butter on

the four pieces that were toasted.

Guthrie came in while we were finishing up, and he washed his hands at the

kitchen sink. He didn't look like his mood was much improved from earlier.

I went over close to where he stood, giving him a nudge in the ribs with

my elbow. "Hi, Guth."

"Hey," he said. "Has Kristin called yet?"

"No," I told him reluctantly.

Adam hollered for Daniel and Evan, and told all of us to sit down, as he and

Brian set the pancakes and eggs, bacon and sausage on the table.

I went to get the rest of the toast, and put in on a plate, carrying it to the

table. I was already sitting down when I remembered the orange juice, and got

up to get it out of the refrigerator.

Adam told Evan to grab the coffee pot, and we all sat down. They all dug

into the food like starving lumberjacks. I knew pancakes weren't the best thing for

me to eat now, especially with syrup on it.

Instead, I took a couple of eggs, and a piece of toast, and ate that. Guthrie's

appetite seemed to be affected by his worry about Kristin. At least it seemed to me

that he didn't eat as much as he usually did.

Adam must have thought so, too, because he spoke from his end of the table.

"Try not to worry, buddy. Everything's going to work out."

Guthrie shrugged, not looking convinced.

"I'm gonna try calling her as soon as I finish eating," Guthrie said, and I heard

the challenge in his voice, even if my brothers didn't.

But Brian and Adam heard it, too, because they exchanged a look, and then

Brian said, "She may not be able to talk for long."

"I don't care. I'm still gonna call her," Guthrie maintained.

I couldn't stop thinking about Seth calling. Since he'd left a couple months ago

to go live with his father, I hadn't heard much about him. Not that I'd cared to

hear anything about him. I couldn't stand him. Still, I had to admit, my curiousity

was peaked about what he could possibly want.

"Let's get this poker game started," Daniel said, getting up and heading towards

the living room.

"Let's play in here at the table," Brian told him.

"Okay," Daniel said. "I'll get the cards."

"Andale, andale, shortcake," Evan told me, elbowing me out of the way. "Hurry up

and help me get the table cleared off."

"Can I play?" I asked.

"Absolutely no females," Brian said, stacking up dishes and carrying them to the

sink.

"Boo," I said, but I didn't really care.

I helped Evan clear off the table, and started running water in the sink.

The phone rang again, and Daniel yelled for me.

"Squirt! Phone!"

I hesitated, and then dried my hands on the dishtowel, thinking. What if it was Seth again? I took so long

about it that Brian gave me a funny look as he set more dishes down.

"You hear Dan'l call you?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I said, and went towards the living room.

I had a thought then that maybe it was Kristen.

"Is it Kristen?" I asked Daniel hopefully, as he looked thru desk drawers for, I assumed,

the deck of cards.

"No. It's a guy," he told me.

I picked up the receiver with trepidation.

"Hello?"

"There's a party at Hell's Bend tonight," I heard Seth's voice say. "Can you come

and meet me there?"

"No! I told you not to call back!" I snapped.

"I just thought you might be able to-"

"No!"

"Okay. Call me at Joe's before eight." And he hung up abruptly.

Grrrrrr. Again, he was telling me what to do, and hanging up before I could even

answer!

I hung the phone up, with considerable more force than necessary, and turned

to see Daniel and Brian both standing there, staring at me.

"Everything okay?" Brian asked.

"Yes."

"Didn't sound that way," he said.

"This the same yahoo that called earlier?" Daniel asked.

"It's just a pest from school," I said.

"Is it somebody that's botherin' you?" Daniel asked. "Cause I can go pay 'em

a visit. You know?" He jabbed his knuckles in the air like a boxer in a ring.

"No, thanks," I said lightly, and went back to the kitchen before they could

ask me any more questions.

I washed the dishes, while Guthrie dried them, and the others all got the

table ready for the poker game.

The poker chips were nowhere to be found, which was, I surmised, a terrible

catastrophe, from the way my brothers carried on about it. All except Guthrie, who

dried dishes silently, until the phone rang again, and he raced for it.

"I'll get it!" I yelled at him, trying to get past him.

Guthrie didn't answer me, he just kept running, and he had no problem out

pacing me. That was all I needed, for it to be Seth again, and for Guthrie to find

out he was calling me. He'd get mad at me before I could explain anything.

It was Kristin on the phone. I hung around long enough to ask Guthrie if she

was okay. He nodded at me, and then said, "Kristin says that Hannah said to tell Adam

that her and Crane are on their way home now."

I went back to the kitchen and relayed the message to Adam.

"Everything okay?" he asked me.

"I don't know. I guess so. Guthrie's hogging the phone."

The mystery of the missing poker chips still hadn't been solved.

"Maybe Hannah will know where they are," Evan said hopefully.

"Awww," I said, with exaggerated mock sadness, "you mean you all might not get

to play poker after all? That's too bad. Maybe we could play Monopoly instead."

"I am not playing Monopoly," Evan said with certainty.

"Me either," Brian added.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because it takes too damn long," Brian said.

"Yeah. And I'm for sure not gonna play it with you," Evan told me.

"How come?"

"Because you buy everything up right away. Nobody else ever has the chance to buy anything."

"What if I promise not to do that? Will you play it then?" I asked him.

"No."

"Besides," Daniel said, "we're gonna play poker tonight, even if I have to drive to town to

buy more poker chips."

"Finish the dishes," Adam told me, passing behind us.

I sighed, and went to finish the dishes, without Guthrie's help.

When I was done, I took Warrior back out to the barn, and then went to sit on the front porch swing.

When the screen door banged, I looked up to see Guthrie coming out. He still looked a

little mad, and discouraged, too.

"Is Kristin's mom alright?" I asked him, as he sat down beside me.

"I guess so. Kristin's gonna stay home with her tonight."

"So no movies, huh?" I asked.

"Nope. Not tonight, anyway."

After a couple of minutes, he said, "You wanna go to the movies with me?"

"I can't. Remember?"

"Adam will let you go with me. I betcha."

"I don't know." I hesitated, and then said, casually, "I guess there's a party

at Hell's Bend tonight."

"How'd you know about that?" Guthrie asked.

"I heard something about it."

"Huh."

"What are those parties like?" I asked him.

"They get pretty crazy sometimes."

"What if we told Adam we were going to the movies, I mean if he said I could, and

then instead we went to Hells Bend?" I said, studying my fingernail.

Guthrie gave me a look that suggested that I'd sprouted two heads and had

purple hair. "Are you out of your damn mind?" he said.

"It was just an idea."

"Yeah. Well, it's a bad one. Forget it."

"It sounds as if Guthrie's givin' you good advice, squirt," Daniel's voice

said, from behind us, and I jumped, startled, turning to look at him standing by the

door.

"Daniel, you scared me!" I told him.

"Did I?"

"Yes, why are you sneaking up behind us?" I said, trying to cover my nervousness

with irritation.

"I don't think I was exactly sneaking up behind you," Daniel said, standing there

and looking at us, and jingling the keys to Evan's truck in his hand.

Guthrie gave me a sideways look that quite plainly said, 'you've done it now'.

"You leavin'?" Guthrie asked him.

"Yeah. I'm gonna run to Angels Camp to get some poker chips at the store."

"I think I saw some in Murphys at Burton's," Guthrie said. "But that was awhile back."

"Okay. I'll swing by there and see. They still close at six?"

"No, they're open till seven now," Guthrie said.

I'd sat there in the few moments that they'd been talking about poker chips, hoping that

Daniel would just drop the subject of what he'd overheard, and wondering what to say if

he didn't.

I jumped up, and made my way to pass in front of Daniel, but he caught me by the back

of my jacket. "Hold up," he said. "What's your hurry?"

"I've got stuff to do," I said.

"Why don't you ride along with me to town?" he said.

I knew he wasn't really asking me. He was telling me. And I knew why, too.

"I can't," I said quickly. "I've got lots of English to do, and besides," I said, latching

onto the most convincing argument I could think of, "Adam says I have to stay home."

"He won't care if you ride along with me," Daniel said, with certainty.

I didn't like the look in his eye. I could feel the steel jaws of his personality closing

around me.

"I'm grounded, though!" I said, giving it one last try.

"I don't think that includes spending time with me," he said. "But come on, to be sure, let's go

ask him."

I didn't have any choice, because he kept his hand wrapped in the back of my jacket, and

kind of pushed me into the house.

"How come you're hanging onto me like that?" I asked crossly.

"I have a feeling you might try to run, and I don't feel like chasin' you," Daniel said, in a low

tone.

"I thought you went to get the poker chips," Evan said, looking up from where he was sitting

on the couch beside Adam.

"I'm goin'," Daniel said. "Hey, Adam, you mind if Harlie rides along with me to town?"

Adam gave Daniel a funny look, and I think he noticed the grasp Daniel had on my

jacket, though he didn't comment on it.

"Sure, that's okay," Adam said.

"Alright. We'll be back," Daniel said.

"Hey," Brian said, coming from the direction of the kitchen. "Pick up a couple of six-packs

while you're in town, alright?"

"Will do," Daniel said, and propelled me back out onto the porch, and past Guthrie,

who looked at me with sympathy.

I gave Guthrie a pointed look, which he interpreted correctly.

"I can come along with, too," he offered, in answer to the silent bid for help in my

eyes.

"That's alright," Daniel said. "I think Harlie and I need some alone time, Guth."

"Sure," said Guthrie, and shrugged at me.

Daniel let go of his hold on me, and I went around and got in the passenger side

of Evan's truck, climbing in grudgingly.

We were halfway down the driveway, when Daniel told me curtly to put my

seat belt on.

"I'm not a baby," I said crossly. "I know to wear a seat belt."

"Then do it," Daniel said, and I fastened the seat belt with a jerk.

Daniel wasted no time in starting in.

"What's all that about going to a party at Hells Bend?" he demanded.

"That was a private conversation," I said, crossing my arms and staring straight ahead.

"Which I happened to overhear. So I'll ask you again. What's it all about?"

"It's not about anything," I said. "I was just asking Guthrie what those parties are

like, that's all."

"And then you're suggesting to lie to Adam and go there."

"I didn't mean it."

"It sounded as though you did," Daniel insisted.

"Well, I didn't."

"Alright. Well, I'm not gonna argue with you about it. You can stonewall me

if you want. But you're not gettin' out of this truck until you talk to me, straight and

honest. That's it." He spoke with a firmness to his voice that I recognized. "You let

me know when you're ready."

He leaned over and turned on the radio, adjusting the dial to a different country music

station than Evan had it tuned to.

George Jones' voice filled the cab, and Daniel hummed along, tapping the steering

wheel with his fingers every now and then.

When we got to Murphys, Daniel pulled up in front of Burton's General Merchandise

store, and got out.

"Comin' in?" he asked me.

I shook my head at him, and he disappeared inside the old wooden doors.

The way my luck was running of late, I shouldn't have been surprised. But I still couldn't believe

it when I saw Seth sauntering out of the pool hall with two other boys, one who I recognized

as his cousin Joe.

I slid down in my seat, and turned my head, all while trying to keep an eye on

which way they were headed. I thought I was safe, until I heard a tap on the truck window.

When I looked, Seth was standing there. "Hey," he said, thru the window.

Curses! There was no help for it now. I sat up, and rolled down the window.

"I knew it was you," he said. "No mistaking that hair for anybody else."

I didn't say anything, and the other two boys crowded near the window, too.

I didn't know the third one, but he looked about Seth's age. Joe, I knew, was closer to

Evan's age.

"Hey," they both said.

"Hi." I didn't know what to say, exactly.

"You're just as pretty as Seth said you were," the third guy said.

What? Seth had been talking about me to these guys? Why would he do that?

I gave Seth a confused look.

"Hey, guys, get lost," he told them, and they both smirked and stepped back over to the

benches in front of the pool hall.

"Will you get out and talk to me?" Seth asked. "I'll buy you a Coke if you come inside."

"No to both of those," I told him.

"Come on, pretty girl-"

"Do not call me that!"

"Okay," he said, "Harlie, then. Please, will you come inside and let me talk to you?"

"Even if I wanted to, which I don't, I can't. I'm with my brother, and he'll be back out here

any minute now."

Seth looked a trifle nervous for a minute. "Which brother?" he asked.

"Daniel."

Seth relaxed. "That's the one I don't know," he said. "As long as it's not Brian."

"Daniel's worse than Brian. A million times worse."

Seth grinned. "Oh, yeah? He as big as Brian?"

"No, but he's crazier."

Seth turned serious. "I've missed you," he said softly, leaning into the window.

"Why, for Pete's sake?" I demanded. "I hate you. And you hate me."

"I don't hate you. I was mad, yeah, but it's not you I hate. It's those brothers of yours. Especially

Guthrie."

I opened the truck door so fast that it smacked him in the stomach, which is just what

I intended. "Don't you talk about Guthrie! You leave him out of this!" I said, as he grimaced

in pain.

"Okay, okay," he said, holding up a hand. "I don't wanna talk about Guthrie, anyhow. I

wanna talk to you. I've got somethin' to tell you."

I was half in, and half out of the truck by now.

"You keep saying that. What is it?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Come on," he said, and he smiled at me the way he had that first day, walking out

of the school. "Let's go get a drink and I'll tell you about it."

"I told you that I can't!"

Joe and the other boy came back over towards us.

"She comin' to the party with us?" Joe asked.

Seth looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "What do you say?"

"Did your mother drop you on your head when you were a baby?" I demanded,

and the other two laughed. There was a flicker of something in Seth's eyes, like anger, and then it was gone, replaced again by a smile.

I heard laughter, and voices, and the door of the Mercantile opened. Daniel came

out, carrying a small bag, and talking to Stewart Peterson and Tim Russell. They were talking about coming

over to our house tomorrow. "We'll see ya tomorrow, Daniel," Stewart said, and they

ambled away.

I got myself back into the truck as quickly as I could, leaving the

door ajar, as Daniel caught sight of Seth and his cronies standing beside my door.

He gave them a once-over, and his eyes narrowed a little.

He stepped around to the passenger side of the truck.

"Joe," he acknowledged, nodding.

"Hey, Daniel, how's it goin'?" Joe asked. "I hear things been goin' pretty good for ya."

"Pretty good," Daniel said.

"Glad to hear it," Joe said, in the affable way people have when they've been drinking

all afternoon and are, as Evan says, feeling no pain.

"This is my cousin, Seth," Joe said, reaching out to pull Seth closer with a hand on his

shoulder.

"It seems like I've heard about Seth," Daniel said, and took another step or two

closer to my door.

Daniel kind of ushered Seth, Joe and the other guy out of his way, and pulled the

passenger door open a little more. "Watch your hands," he told me, and slammed it

shut.

"Roll your window up," he told me then, and I obeyed, watching as he then motioned for

Seth to follow him a few feet from the truck.

7B7B


	14. Chick Flick

I couldn't hear what Daniel was saying to Seth, and it was almost more than

I could stand. Daniel was facing Seth, so I could see him, but Seth had his back

turned towards me, so I wasn't able to see his face.

Daniel seemed to be talking calmly, but he pointed at Seth a couple of times.

Seth lit a cigarette, and shifted his posture, and reached up to rub the back of his

neck.

Joe came to stand close to Seth's other side, and he started talking in an

agitated-looking way, waving his hands around. The third guy came over, too,

and kind of stood behind Daniel. From where I sat, it looked as though Daniel

was surrounded. I was suddenly irritated at him, and then scared for him.

Why did he have to mix in like that? He could have just gotten into the truck

and started for home. Instead, he had to start telling Seth off for talking to

me, or whatever. At least, that's what I assumed he was doing. It was hard

to tell, not being able to hear and all. And three against one? Well, there

was no winning odds to that. They could make mincemeat out of Daniel.

I, as quietly as I was able to, opened the door just a crack, so that I could

hear what was going on.

"You got no call to be talkin' to Seth like that-" Joe was saying.

"Stay out of it, Joe," Daniel said.

"He's a good kid-"

"Not from the reports I've heard," Daniel said.

"Shut up, Daniel," I said to myself, in a whisper.

"The way I hear it, it was your little brother Guthrie that went after

Seth," Joe said, stepping closer to Daniel.

"Just stay away from Harlie," Daniel said, to Seth, ignoring Joe completely.

I had my feet on the ground now, stepping away from the truck, my hand

still on the door. I would have went to where they were standing, but for the

fact that Daniel, without even looking my way, held up a hand and pointed

to the truck.

"Get your butt back in the truck," he told me, sounding furious.

Well, I hesitated, but only for a moment. I got back in, slamming the door

hard. But I did roll the window down just a sliver, enough to hear Daniel

tell Seth with finality, "Don't call her, don't talk to her, don't even look at her." He turned and started for the truck, and Joe called after him, threateningly.

"The name McFadden doesn't always mean protection! There'll be a time

and place, Daniel!"

"Don't lose any sleep tryin' to think of when and where, Joe," Daniel

replied calmly, over his shoulder.

I rolled up the window hurriedly, trying not to look at the glaring faces of

Seth, Joe and Guy Three. I remembered with full force why I hated Seth and

how scary he could be.

Daniel got into the truck, tossing the bag which I assumed held the poker chips,

into the seat between us.

We drove out of Murphys in silence. I stayed pressed as close as I could against

my door, sneaking covert glances at him.

Halfway home, I spoke into the silence, and said quietly, "You forgot to get

the beer for Brian."

"If I was you, I'd be worried about somethin' other than the beer Brian told

me to get," he said.

"It's not my fault he was talking to me! You made me go to town, remember?

I tried to slide down so he wouldn't see me! It didn't work!" I defended myself.

"Well, why is he talkin' to you at all? I thought this thing between you and

that punk was over and done."

"It was! It is! He just started talking to me again. He keeps saying he has

something to tell me," I said.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. He hasn't told me yet."

"So whatever it is, he wants to spend some time with you alone

to do the tellin'? That right?"

"Right," I admitted, with a sigh.

"So that's why the plan to go to Hell's Bend tonight, then," Daniel said,

sounding disgusted.

For a minute, what he said didn't click with me. When it did, I looked at

him in horror, knowing what he was thinking.

"No, Daniel! That's not right! There wasn't a plan! I wasn't wanting to meet up with Seth. I don't even like him."

"I heard you. Talking about lying to Adam in order to go."

"I didn't mean I would really go! I was just-just talking. You know how

it is!"

"No, Harlie. I don't know. Why don't you tell me how it is with you?"

Harlie. He'd called me Harlie. Not squirt. Not party girl. Not brat, or crazy

cakes, or any of the other affectionate nicknames he uses for me. Daniel

never does that.

For some reason, that hurt me worse than if he'd yelled at me.

I looked at him, suddenly anxious to make amends with him, to make him

understand.

I took a deep breath. "Daniel, I wouldn't really have gone. I was just-making noise.

I knew Guthrie wouldn't go for it. And I am a little curious about the parties. I hear

about them all the time at school. And I know all you guys have gone when you

were younger. But even if I really did want to go to one, it wouldn't be to meet up with Seth! I know what a bastard he is!"

Daniel looked at me, and then back towards the road. He reached up on the viser

and pulled Evan's sunglasses down, putting them on.

After what seemed to me like the longest few minutes ever, he said, "Okay."

I turned sideways in the seat so that I could see him better, but all I could really

see was his profile, since his eyes were hidden by the sunglasses.

"Okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. Okay."

"What does that mean, exactly?" I asked. "Does it mean you believe me?"

"Yeah, I believe you."

"About all of it? That I wasn't planning to meet him? That I didn't really want

to talk to him?"

"I said yes, Har," Daniel said, sounding irritated.

Har. Well, at least it wasn't my full name. It showed he wasn't quite

as mad as he'd been.

"Is that who kept callin' you today?" he asked me.

"Yeah."

"You could have just hung up on him."

"It's not like I was trying to encourage him or anything," I defended myself.

"I think he's the type of guy who will take anything as encouragement and

run with it," Daniel said.

"I guess so." I sighed. After a couple of minutes of silence I asked,

"What did you say to him?"

"What do you think I said?" Daniel countered.

"Probably that you would break his legs if he breathed near me."

"That's close."

"You didn't have to, you know."

"I think I did. He doesn't seem to hear very well. He may need another

reminder."

"That won't be your problem, though. You're not going to be around long enough for that," I said, the words slipping out before I could catch them.

Quicker than you could say 'Johnny Appleseed', Daniel braked and pulled

the truck over to a stop at the side of the road.

He took off the sunglasses, and tossed them onto the dash. I didn't think Evan

would like that, but I wisely kept that to myself.

Daniel turned so that he was facing me.

"Why are you so mad at me?" he asked bluntly.

I stared at him.

"What do you mean? I'm not mad at you!"

Daniel gave me a disbelieving look.

"I'm not!" I insisted. "I miss you like crazy, all the time, and I'm

glad you're home, and I wish you could stay around and not leave!" I was

talking so fast that I was breathless. I took a big breath of air in, and blew it

out, glaring at him.

"Okay," Daniel said mildly. "I just thought maybe you were."

"Well, that's dumb!" I turned away from him, and faced the window,

wrapping my arms around myself.

"Well, who then?" Daniel asked. "Cause it sure seems like you're mad

at somebody."

"I'm mad at me," I said, almost in a whisper, and Daniel leaned forward

a little.

"What'd you say?" he asked.

I shook my head, in a refusal to answer.

"Look at me, squirt," Daniel said.

I shook my head again, feeling the tears begin.

I heard Daniel sigh then, and he reached out, grabbing my jacket in

his hand, and gave me a hard tug, to pull me over beside him.

I tightened my arms against my sides, and pushed back a little, resisting.

Daniel gave me another hard pull, persistent as always. "Comere," he said, and I had no choice but to be towed across the seat to his side.

Once I was there, he wrapped one arm tightly around my shoulders, hugging

me close to him, and with his free hand he took my hand and ran his thumb back

and forth over it.

"Why are you mad at yourself?" he asked.

"Because I have diabetes," I said, really low.

"Now you're the one being dumb," Daniel said. "You know that's

not caused by anything you did, or didn't do."

"My brain knows that," I said, wiping at my wet face. " But inside, I still feel like it's my fault."

"Aww, squirt," he said, and pulled me to him tighter. He rested his

chin on the top of my head.

We sat like that in quiet for awhile, I don't know how long for sure. A couple

trucks went around us, one honking as they passed.

After awhile I spoke. "Brian and Evan are probably wondering where you are, with

the beer and the poker chips."

"Probably."

"You know three against one, that wasn't so smart," I told him. "Seth and Joe

and the other guy could have stomped on you."

"Probably," he said again.

"Hey, listen," he said, and pulled back so he could look into my face. "Promise

me somethin', alright?"

"What?"

"Hang up if that kid calls you again. And don't meet him anywhere. Never. No

matter what he says."

"I told you that I-"

"Never, Har. I'm serious. Promise me."

"Alright."

"I wanna hear you say it."

I sighed up at him. "I promise."

"Okay. Good." He leaned back again.

"Don't we have to be going?" I asked him.

"Here in a minute, we will."

I laid my cheek on his shoulder. "I miss you when you're gone, Daniel."

"I miss you, too."

"The day I found out what was wrong with me, on the way home from

the doctor's office, I really wished I could talk to you. Hannah wanted me to

go home, but I went back to school. I would have called you if I'd been able to."

"You could have called me later."

"You would have been at work by then, though."

"Yeah. That's right. I'm sorry that I couldn't be there for you, squirt."

"It's not your fault. It's not anybody's fault."

"Including yours," he reminded me, tapping the top of my head with his finger.

"I'll try to remember that," I said, and smiled at him.

7

When we pulled up at home, and parked, the front door was flung open

and Evan stood there on the porch, in his sock feet, yelling.

"Where have you been? It doesn't take two damn hours to go get

poker chips and beer!"

Daniel picked up the bag with the chips in it. I caught at his arm.

"Daniel? Do we have to tell anyone else about Seth and Joe and-everything?"

"I think we ought to talk to Adam and everybody about it. It seems like

he's got some kind of fixation on you. I'm worried about it."

"I'm sure you scared him off," I said, though I thought no such thing.

"Well, I don't know about that. And now Joe's all riled up. I don't want

Evan or Guthrie, or Ford when he's home, goin' to town and gettin' jumped.

I think everybody needs a heads up."

"Okay," I sighed, in resignation, knowing he was right.

"It can wait till tomorrow morning at breakfast," he said.

"Or tomorrow after all the company leaves?" I suggested hopefully.

"Alright," Daniel conceded.

When we went up the front steps, Evan again demanded to know

what had taken us so long. Before Daniel could answer, Brian stepped

out the screen door. "Where's the beer?" he asked.

"I forgot the beer," Daniel said.

"I guess I should have tied a note around your neck," Brian said.

Daniel shrugged good-naturedly, and went around both Evan and Brian

to go inside, Evan on his heels. As I followed them, Brian gave me a puzzled look as I

passed by.

"What's with you?" he asked me.

"Huh?"

"You look funny."

"Gosh, thanks a lot, Bri."

"I don't mean it like that. You look like you've been crying."

I stopped walking, and looked up at him. "I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

He nodded, and held the door open for me to go thru.

I followed Daniel and Evan to the kitchen, Brian behind me. Clare was

sitting on the counter beside the stove, watching Crane as he made popcorn.

Adam was sitting at the table, drinking coffee. The table was bare except for

bowls of potato chips set out, and a deck of cards laying in the middle.

"Hey, little sis," Clare greeted me. "What are we females going to do while

these men fritter away the evening with their cards and beer?"

I smiled at her. "We could go to Disneyland."

"We could. Or we could go to Rodeo Drive and buy a two hundred dollar

purse."

"Or three hundred dollar shoes," I countered.

"Great idea. What do you think, hon?" she asked, smiling at Brian.

"I don't think my wallet will hold up for any of those," Brian said,

leaning over and giving Clare a kiss.

"Oh, really?" Clare said, with a fake pout, and a twinkle in her eye.

"Well, darn. I guess we'll just have to stay home and watch a chick flick and paint our toenails, then."

Brian gave her another quick kiss. "Good idea," he said.

"Where's Hannah?" I asked.

"She's takin' a bath," Adam said.

"How's Kristin?" I asked Crane.

"Worried about her mom, but alright, I think."

"What happened?" I asked.

"Her mom wanted to talk to a deputy, so Gregg Bartlett came by."

"What's she going to do?"

"I'm not really sure."

I could tell he wasn't going to say anymore right then, and they were

hollering for him to sit down at the table so they could start dealing the

cards. I figured I would call Kristin myself, or see what she'd told Guthrie.

"Hey, you eat something," Crane told me.

"Okay."

"But first check your level," Clare spoke up, as she hopped down from

the counter.

I went to check my level, Clare tagging after me. She frowned when I

was done. "That's low, Harlie. You need to eat something quickly."

I went to the refrigerator, getting a leftover roll, and then grabbed

a banana. I held them up to show Clare, and she nodded in approval.

"You can eat some popcorn, too," she told me. "I'll make us our own bowl

since the guys are being such pigs and not sharing."

I nodded, and bit into my roll. "I want to say hi to Hannah," I told her.

"Ask her to come down and watch the movie with us," Clare said.

"Okay, I will."

I went up the stairs, chewing on my roll. I knocked on Hannah's

bedroom door, and she called, "Who is it?"

"It's me," I called back.

"Come on in," she said, and I went into the bedroom, and to the small

bathroom. Hannah was in the bathtub, immersed in bubbles up to her shoulders.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi, sweetie. How are you?"

"Okay. How are you?" I countered.

"Let's just say, that I was in dire need of a bubble bath," she sighed.

I sat down on the edge of the tub, picking up a handful of bubbles.

"Was it very bad?" I asked.

"Well, it's on my list of least favorite things I've done," she sighed.

"Crane says Kristin's okay."

"She is."

"But he's downplaying it, right?" I asked sagely.

"Kristin has a tough road," Hannah said.

"I know. It's not fair."

"No. It's not. But there's a lot that's not fair. You know that yourself, first

hand."

"Yeah." I sighed. "Crane said her mom wanted to talk to a deputy. So that

means her mom's going to press charges, right?"

Hannah hesitated. "Well, no, not necessarily."

"Why not?!"

"Harlie, don't yell in here. I have a headache already, and the sound

just ricoshets in this little room."

"I'm sorry. But why talk to a deputy at all if the point isn't to put Frank's

sorry ass in jail?"

"Language, please."

"Sorry. Butt. Why have Gregg come over if she's not going to do something

about it?"

"I don't know, sweetie." Hannah sounded tired. "I don't think Linda's made

up her mind yet."

"What is there to make up her mind about?" I demanded. "Is she just

going to keep on like this forever, letting Frank knock her around, and

not doing anything?"

"Sometimes it takes some women longer to decide what they aren't willing

to put up with."

"Well, that's bat shit," I said, and Hannah frowned at me.

"Well, it is," I said.

Surprisingly, Hannah smiled a little, and nodded. "You're right," she said. "But

some people aren't as strong as others."

I thought suddenly of myself, and the way I'd been handling my diagnosis

of diabetes. I hadn't done very well. So maybe I shouldn't be judging

someone else for something I hadn't had any experience with.

"I guess so," I said. I reached down for another handful of bubbles, and blew

them off my hand. "For instance, some girls would have done way better than

I have at handling finding out about having diabetes or whatever."

"Now, Harlie-" Hannah began.

"Well, I've done really badly at it, Hannah. You know that's true."

"You've had a difficult time accepting it-"

"Same thing."

"No," she said firmly. "It's not the same thing. You are a strong, capable

person, and once the shock passes, you'll accept it, and work thru your feelings."

"Maybe," I said.

"Not maybe."

I stood up, wiping my wet hand on my jeans. "Clare says we're gonna watch

a girly movie. You want to watch with us?"

"I'll be down in about twenty minutes. That work?"

I nodded.

"Harlie?"

I turned back. "Huh?"

"Do you think you might want to talk to someone? Someone outside the family,

I mean?"

I knew exactly what she meant, and I shook my head.

"No, ma'm."

At her doubtful look, I added, "I just need some more time to think it all

out. That's all. Talking to you, and Guthrie, and Clare is all I need right now."

"Alright," Hannah said, not looking particularly convinced.

7


	15. The importance of a closed door

Clare and Hannah and I were getting ready to watch the movie,

Sixteen Candles, with Molly Ringwald. We had a bowl of popcorn, and some

lemonade.

"I think I'll get an apple," I said.

"Well, hurry, or you'll miss the start," Clare said, taking my glass from me and sitting

it on the coffee table.

I went into the kitchen, or the gambling casino, as it seemed to be,

with as loud as it was, and cards being tossed onto the table.

None of them took any notice of me at all, as I got an apple off the counter

and then pulled down the jar of peanut butter out of the cabinet. I sliced my apple, and

put the pieces on a plate, spreading peanut butter on them.

I'd thought Guthrie was in the kitchen playing poker, too, but he was no

where in sight.

I stepped up to stand between Evan and Daniel.

"Where's Guthrie?" I asked, to no one in particular.

I got no answer from anyone. They were all too busy saying 'I'll raise ya'

and 'too rich for me'.

I poked Evan's shoulder. "Ev, where's Guthrie?"

"I dunno," Evan said, his concentration evident on the game.

I looked down the table toward Adam and Brian.

"Adam? Do you know where Guthrie is?"

"Huh?" Adam asked, he too, obviously intent on the hand of cards he held.

"Never mind," I said, and took my plate of peanut-covered apple slices

back to the living room.

"It's just starting," Hannah said. She was stretched out in the recliner, a small

bowl of popcorn on her lap.

"Do you know where Guthrie is?" I asked her.

"He was going to meet some friends at the movies," Hannah said.

"Oh." I settled down on the couch next to Clare, wondering about Guthrie. I guess since he was with his friends, he would be alright, even if he ran into Seth and his cousin. Hopefully, their paths wouldn't cross between Angel Falls and Murphys. The mood that Guthrie was in, it

wouldn't take much to get him to fight.

Clare nudged me, offering me some of the popcorn she held.

I shook my head, holding up my plate of apples slices.

The movie was good. I'd never seen it before. It was sort of sad sometimes, but

I admired Molly Ringwald's character that she played. She had spunk. It took a lot

to get her down. After the movie was over, Hannah and Clare started talking, about the

movie, and Clare's classes, and how many people were coming over to the lunch thing

that we were having the next day.

It had been a long day. Again. It seemed like every day lately had been so full

of activity and emotion that it wore me out. What with my school suspension, and

Crane giving me what for, to Daniel coming home, and then Kristin's stuff with her mom.

To be topped off by Seth trying to talk to me again.

I leaned my head back, feeling myself growing drowsy. When I was jiggled awake, it

was because I'd fallen asleep leaning against Clare's shoulder, and when she

started laughing, it woke me up.

The poker game was over too, apparently. Daniel and Crane were sitting by

the fireplace, talking. Brian was sitting beside Clare. Adam and Hannah were

gone, but Evan was coming thru from the kitchen, his hands full of cookies.

"I'm beat," he said. "Night, everybody."

A chorus of goodnights followed Evan up the stairs.

"Is Guthrie home yet?" I asked Clare.

"No, not yet."

I got up to go over to where Daniel and Crane sat, looking at the big

clock on the mantel. It was after eleven.

They both looked up at me.

"Goin' up to bed?" Daniel asked me.

"Yeah. Do you think Guthrie's alright?" I asked.

"He'll probably be along soon," Daniel said.

Crane gave us both a puzzled look. "Why are you worried about Guthrie? He's

not even late yet."

I looked at Daniel, and bit at the corner of my lip, waiting for his direction

on what to say.

"That punk that caused trouble with the kids a couple months ago is back in

town," Daniel said quietly.

"That Seth kid?" Crane asked, looking worried.

"That's the one."

Crane looked from Daniel to me and then back again.

"How do you know that?" Crane asked, still looking puzzled.

By now I was regretting not keeping my concerns for Guthrie to myself.

Crane was one thing, but if the conversation got any more involved, Brian

would overhear, and then all holy heck would break loose.

"We saw him and his cousin when we were in town earlier," Daniel told Crane.

"Is he trying to stir up trouble again?" Crane asked, looking right at me.

"Well," I hesitated. "I'm not sure."

"What does that mean?" Crane asked.

I looked at Daniel for help. "Can't we talk about it tomorrow, like you said?"

I turned to give a worried look in Brian's direction.

"Please? It's been a long day, and I'm tired. Brian is going to go ballistic

when he hears about it." I looked up at Crane. "Please, Crane."

"I'll fill you in on everything when we go upstairs," Daniel told him.

Crane considered both of us, looking serious. "Okay. Tomorrow, then," he said.

"Thanks," I told him.

I gave both him and Daniel a hug goodnight, and went to lean over the back of the

couch.

"See you in the morning," I said, including both Brian and Clare.

"I'll come up and do your shot," Clare said.

"If you can come up and watch, that would be good," I told her. "But I thought

I'd try to do it myself tonight."

"You sure?" Clare asked. "I don't mind doing it, you know."

"I know," I said. "But I think it's time I started taking responsibility, and doing

more for myself with this whole thing."

"Okay, hon," Clare said, and when I met Brian's gaze with my own, there

was no mistaking the pride and approval in his eyes.

I knew he was thinking of what he'd told me earlier about acting my age,

and taking responsibility, and that he was proud and glad that I was taking his advice

to heart.

"You want to do it now?" Clare asked me.

"Yeah. I'm ready for bed."

"Okay," Clare said, and stood up. Brian stood up, too, reaching out to

catch the sleeve of my shirt.

"Hey, come here," he said, and I went around to the front of the couch.

He gave me a hard hug, and said, against my ear, "That's my girl."

"I'm going to try," I said.

Well, needless to say, it took me a lot longer to get ready and to give the shot

to myself, but I did get it done, and I went to sleep feeling like I'd accomplished

something.

7b7b7b7b7b7b

The next day should have been a good day. It really should have been. After

all, California weather in October being what it is, the sun was bright and the sky

was a vibrant blue. Ford was driving home for the day and to spend the night, so

every single McFadden would be present and accounted for.

Friends and neighbors were coming over for lunch. All in all, like I said, it should

have been a day to write home about.

But mostly it wasn't.

To begin with, I'd set my alarm clock for 7 a.m. We weren't going to church, but

I'd planned to get up that early so I could help Hannah and Clare get everything

readied up for the noon get-together.

When the alarm started buzzing, I reached over to snap it off. Instead of getting

right up, like I usually do, I kind of laid there for a little bit. I didn't feel well at

all. I had a headache, and I was really tired. I got up to go to the bathroom, running

into Evan as he came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his neck.

"Hey, Har," he greeted me with a big grin. He seemed unusually happy.

"Hi," I said dully. My legs felt all prickly, too.

"You okay?" he asked. "You don't look so good."

"Who cares?" I said, and went into the bathroom, shutting the door

almost on his nose.

When I came out, he was still standing there, rubbing his wet hair with the

towel.

"Hey, I'm bringin' somebody new over today for this lunch thing," he told me.

" That girl you've been dating? Nancy, right?"

"Yeah. Nancy Sims."

"That's good, Ev." I knew he must really like this girl to be bringing her

around a gathering. I gave him a wan smile and edged my way back towards

my room.

"You feelin' alright?"

"Sure. I feel great."

"Yeah. And you're lying, too."

I went back into my room and curled up on my bed, while Evan

stood in my open doorway.

"I just have a headache. I'll be okay."

"You want me to get you some Tylenol?" he offered.

"I just want to lay here," I said.

"Okay. You want the door shut?"

"Yeah. Please don't tell anybody, alright? I don't want a million people

up here."

"You need somebody to check on you," he said stubbornly. "I'll send

Clare up. Or do you want Hannah?"

The only person I really wanted to see right then was Adam. I don't know why.

"I want Adam," I said, and Evan nodded in understanding.

He went out, shutting the door behind him.

I closed my eyes, against the pounding in my head. I couldn't remember

ever having a headache like this before. I wished I'd had Evan get me the

Tylenol after all.

I don't know how long it was before there was a light tap on my door, and

then it opened, and Adam came in, shutting the door quietly behind him.

"Hey, sugar," he said.

I waved a hand at him. "Hi, Adam," I said.

Adam sat down on the edge of my bed, laying a hand on my knee.

"Evan says you're not feeling so great."

"No," I said, and promptly burst into tears.

"Hey, hey," he said soothingly, patting my leg. "Your stomach upset?"

I shook my head. "I have a headache," I said, thru my tears. "And I feel

weird."

"Weird how, exactly?"

"My legs feel-all prickly, and my headache is really bad, Adam!"

"Alright." He stood up. "I'll be right back."

I laid there and cried while he was gone, and I worked myself up until

the crying was more sobbing.

Adam had left the door open, and Guthrie appeared in the open doorway. He

stood there, staring at me, looking worried.

"What's wrong, Har?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said.

Adam came back then, his hands full of a variety of things, and passed

by Guthrie.

"Can I do somethin' to help?" Guthrie asked Adam.

"Not right now, Guth. Go on and see what Hannah or everybody else needs

help with. Shut the door on your way out, alright?"

"Okay," Guthrie said, sounding reluctant.

Adam set everything he was carrying on my nightstand. The first thing he

did was shake two Tylenol out of the bottle, and sit down on the bed again.

"Sit up," he said, and when I did, he handed me the pills and then reached

for the glass of orange juice he'd brought up.

I swallowed the medicine, and drank some of the juice, and handed the

glass back to him, still crying.

Adam reached over then, and picked up a folded wet washcloth, and pressed

it to my face, wiping my cheeks, and then rubbing it over my forehead, too.

It was wet, and cold, and it felt so good.

"Settle down a little bit," he said. "Crying so hard isn't going to help

your headache."

"O-Okay," I said, and I tried to stop crying, but it was hard.

"I think Polly's going to have her foal anytime now," Adam said, talking

about one of our mares that seemed to get larger by the day.

"Today?" I asked, hicuuping a little.

"I don't know about today. I hope not, with company coming, but we'll

see, I guess."

Adam went on talking about the animals, and something funny that

Elwood, my favorite goat, had done the day before.

Listening to his calm voice helped me to calm down, too, and I stopped

crying. Adam stopped wiping my face with the washcloth, and handed it to

me. It wasn't until later that I realized Adam had talked like that to cause

me to focus on something besides my head, and it worked, too.

"Okay." He patted my leg. "I'll be back, alright?"

I caught at his hand. "Do you have to go?" I asked, hating the plaintive

sound in my voice. I knew he was busy. He had chores, and probably things

to do to help with the lunch. He probably hadn't even had breakfast yet.

"For a few minutes. I'm gonna grab some coffee. I'll be right back."

"Okay," I said, letting go of his hand reluctantly.

"I'm gonna rustle you up some breakfast," he added.

"Nothing sounds good," I complained.

"So some oatmeal and toast coming right up," Adam said, as if I hadn't

spoken at all. "Which you will eat, young lady."

I would have rolled my eyes at him, but my head was aching too

badly, so I just said, "Yes, Adam," and laid down slowly, trying not to

jar myself around.

I closed my eyes, and I think I drifted back into sleep, until I heard

the door opening again, and boots scraping on the wood floor.

"Sit up," Adam said, coming in and carrying a tray.

I sat up carefully.

A bowl of oatmeal, an apple, and two pieces of toast were on the tray.

He set the tray down across my lap, and then took off a newspaper, also

on the tray, shook it out, and sat down on the bed.

"You eat while I read," he said, and I had to smile at the way he said it.

"Okay," I said.

"And enjoy this breakfast in bed thing, cause I'm not gonna make a habit

of serving it to you up here," he said, with a smile.

"Is Ford here yet?" I asked, as I bit into my toast.

"Not yet." Adam opened the paper and started reading.

For a few minutes there was only the sound of me eating, and Adam's paper

rustling, as he turned pages. I finished the toast and half the cereal, and sat the tray off to one side of me, and scooted closer to Adam, laying my head on his arm.

"Is your headache lettin' up any yet?" he asked, without looking up from his reading.

"A little."

After a couple of minutes, Adam folded the paper, and turned to me.

"You rest awhile, go back to sleep if you can, and I'll check on you later,

alright?"

"Okay. Will you ask Guthrie to come up here?"

"I think you ought to just rest," he said.

"In other words, 'No', right?" I asked.

"In other words, 'No', right," he said. He stood up, gesturing for me to

lay down, and he covered me with my quilt, and then picked up the tray.

He went to pull my curtains closed, to darken the room, and went to

the door.

"Go to sleep," he said, and went out, closing the door softly behind him.

I did go back to sleep, and when I woke up, my headache was gone. I

looked at my little clock. It was after ten. I stretched out a little, and then got

up. I still felt sort of weird, kind of weak and wobbly, but definitely better

than I had earlier.

I went to my dresser, and pulled out a pair of my nicer jeans, the ones I save

for school, and a blue and white striped shirt. I undid my messy braid, and

brushed out my hair, and redid it in two tight braids. I sat down to pull on

clean socks, and decided to wear my sneakers instead of my boots.

I went downstairs, to find the living room full of McFaddens, and also

Marie, and Red. There in the midst, was Ford.

Everybody greeted me, and Ford put down his glass of tea, and stood up, coming

forward to gather me in a hug.

"Thought you were goin' to sleep all day," he teased me, with a grin.

"Hi, Fordie," I said.

I'm the only one allowed to call Ford that, but even so, that doesn't mean he

likes it. He hugged me again, saying close to my ear, "I'll give you two of those

while I'm here. That's one."

I raised my face to look up at him, with a smile. "Duly noted," I said.

Adam came over, Hannah at his side. "Well, you look better," he said. "At

least you're not as pale as you were."

"I'm better," I said, and Hannah gave me a side hug. I could tell she was

worried about me, because her forehead was all filled with little frown lines.

"I don't want you doing a lot today," she told me.

"I'm alright, Hannah. I feel better."

"I'm serious, Harlie. And you go to bed early tonight."

I opened my mouth to tell her again that I was fine, but Adam

leaned close to me, and said, "Say 'yes, ma'm'."

"Yes, ma'm," I said, and gave Hannah a smile.

She hugged me again. "I'm going to keep my eye on you today, so

beware."

Daniel, who'd been standing to the side, came closer, and put his

arm around Hannah's waist.

"We do need to have a family meeting sometime this evenin', after

company goes home," he said.

Hannah looked curious, but nodded. Adam didn't look surprised, and

I figured that Daniel and Crane had already talked to him.

"Joy, oh joy," I muttered, to no one in particular.

Ford raised a questioning eyebrow at me. "What goes on here?" he asked. "Sounds

like somethin' big."

"Oh, it's big," I said. "Big, and loud, and obnoxious."

7b7b 7b7b 7b7b

Kristin was able to come for lunch that day. Hannah and Adam invited

her mother, too, but Kristin said her mom didn't feel like being around a lot of

people. Guthrie went to pick her up, and when they drove in, I hurried over

to say hello to her.

We hugged on each other as if we'd been apart for a month instead of just

one day.

"I missed you!" Kristin told me.

"I missed you!" I said right back.

Guthrie shook his head at us. "Women," he said, with an eye roll.

When the neighbors and friends that had been invited all got there, there

was a buffet-type lunch set up inside. I followed Guthrie and Kristin thru

the food line, with Evan and his Nancy behind us.

I liked Nancy. She seemed nice, and it was apparent that she was ga-ga

over Evan. I was careful about what I ate for lunch, choosing things that

I thought would keep my blood sugar level, and not cause a headache. I didn't

want another one of those anytime soon.

After lunch was over, people were milling all over the house and out in

the yard, visiting. Kristin and I helped gather up dishes, but we didn't have to

help wash them, because Marie had everything all organized. She had Hannah

sitting at the table resting, and visiting with Mrs. Nelson about pregnancy,

while she and Zelda Peterson got our kitchen spic and span.

"You girls run on," Marie told us, with a wave of her hands.

So we made our exit quick. We headed outside, where there was a game of

basketball going on. There's nothing funnier than watching a bunch of cowboys

playing basketball. I mean, take Trent and Guthrie, Stewart Peterson, and Brian and Daniel, throw in Evan and Ford and Red, who all look more at home on a horse, and put them on a concrete

slab with a basketball hoop attached to it, and you're guaranteed to be

entertained. I will have to admit that even wearing boots, except for Trent,

who wore his high top sneakers, they all could play pretty well. The funniest

part, though, had to be Red, who wore his cowboy hat thru out the game, and

even though he was jostled and bumped and shoved, his hat stayed in place.

Kristin and I watched for awhile, and then we went to play with the puppies,

who were, by now, big enough to run around and not stay in the barn all the time.

Brian and Adam say they have to be shut up the rest of the time, though, unless

we're playing with them or watching them, so they don't get underfoot, and mess

with any of the animals.

"Have you found homes for any of them yet?" Kristin asked, as she cuddled the

largest one.

"No. I think Doc G is going to take one, though."

"I wish I could have one," she said. "It would help me not get so lonely."

I picked Warrior up and held him tight. "Are you lonely a lot?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'm mostly always lonely, unless I'm here, or at school. At

my house, I always am."

"Unless your mom is there, right?" I asked her.

"Even if mom is there, I'm still lonesome. Even if her body is there, her

mind and her spirit really aren't. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah," I said. "I think so. I'm sorry, Kris."

"At least I have your family," Kristin said, putting down the puppy she was

holding in order to pick up another one. "It helps keep me strong. Thank you

for sharing everybody with me, Harlie. You didn't have to do that."

"It's okay," I said. I didn't really know what to say exactly.

There were shouts from the house, and our names being called. Guthrie

walked halfway across the yard toward the barn and yelled, "Hey, you two!

Hannah says to come in!"

I dusted the hay off my jeans, and kissed Warrior on the nose, putting him down.

"What's going on?" Kristin asked.

"Probably time to break out the guitars and banjos," I told her.

Kristin's face lit up. "You mean I get to hear everybody sing and play? I didn't

think I was ever going to get to do that!"

Kristin put down her puppy and we walked out of the barn, across the yard

to meet up with Guthrie. We went into the house together.

I totally forgot to put the puppies back into their stall and close the door.

7


End file.
